Dragon Ball Ki
by JaeK LoeR
Summary: This is a retelling of DBZ from the very beginning. In this fanfic, I want to create a set of rules for how Ki functions as a magic system to better differentiate the characters and their abilities. I also intend to incorporate as much DBZ material outside of the main series as seamlessly as possible. And lastly, I hope to develop the story and characters in more depth. Enjoy!
1. A Restless Goku and a New Enemy

**Author's Note: For progress updates on this story, please see my profile page.**

* * *

A spherical pod silently streaks through the cold blackness of the universe towards the warm, blue planet of Earth. The spacecraft's simple design consists of a white metal used to construct the hull and a round, red lens of glass to view from. At five feet in diameter, it is large enough to comfortably hold an adult human in a seated position. A computerized voice awakens the ship's occupant from a deep and lengthy slumber as the whole vehicle powers up from its energy saving state.

"You will arrive at your destination in sixty minutes," the electronic voice chirps while the ship hums to life.

After a big yawn and a few blinks of the eyes, the alien passenger focuses his sights on the planet before him.

"Okay Kakarot. Time to find out how well your mission went," says the purple skinned humanoid to himself. "I suppose on a planet with a full moon every thirty days or so all picked out especially for you, even a low class monkey like yourself should have eventually conquered this rock in the amount of time you've had."

…

"Come on Goku. We're going to be late," calls Chichi out the front door of her home.

In the front yard of their isolated house among the forested mountains of the area, Goku performs a martial arts routine to focus his mind and body.

"Seriously Goku," continues Chichi. I know you love training, but can't you take even one day off when we're supposed to be visiting our friends today?"

"Aw Chichi. It's just a little warm up," says Goku. "Besides, we're still waiting on your father to get here."

"I suppose you're right," says Chichi with a smile.

Her husband would find any excuse to do a little training. It could be frustrating to get him to do much else when his mind was on martial arts, so she knew it was best to let him get it out of his system whenever the chance was available. And while it did frustrate her from time to time, it was one of the many reasons she loved him.

A timid boy pokes his head out from behind her legs to watch Goku as well. Chichi looks down at her son with admiration as he clings to the cloth of her purple dress. She places her hand on his back and nudges him forward.

"Go on," she encourages.

The boy smiles and runs over to his father who stops immediately to pick him up and swing him around. After being set down, Goku assumes another stance with his son mimicking the same. They go through a rhythmic motion together in synchronized harmony.

A cloud of dust appears on the horizon as a small hovercraft without a roof speeds along the dirt road to their house. A hulking man barely able to fit in the vehicle clearly too small for him bulges out of the driver's seat. He waves frantically and yells in both greetings and apologies. The scene scares Goku's son into running back behind his mother for protection.

"Looks like you're dad's finally made it," says Goku finishing up his series of maneuvers.

"It's about time," says Chichi as her father parks the car.

"Hey Ox King," says Goku.

"Hello Chichi. Hi Goku. Sorry I'm running late," says the Ox King with a few bows to each of them.

"Really dad. Is it so hard to be on time?" asks Chichi. "We haven't seen our friends in what seems like forever and you know how hard it is to get everyone's schedule to line up like this."

"I know sweetie. I'm sorry. I'm ready to go just as soon as I get a big hug from my grandson. Gohan! Gohan where are you?"

"No need to shout. He's right here," says Chichi. Then to her son, "okay give your grandpa a big hug."

Gohan hesitates for a moment holding tightly to his mom. The Ox King drops to one knee and spreads his arms out wide in a welcoming manner. The boy then runs towards the big man and leaps onto his cushiony chest. The Ox King wraps his arms around the tiny four year old as they both break out in laughter.

"Oh my you've gotten so big. You nearly knocked me over," cries the Ox King happily. "Okay I'm ready to go. Let's go see our friends and have a good time."

The Ox King turns his car back into its capsule form along with the usual loud bang and cloud of smoke. The four family members board a much larger aircraft than his vehicle meant for flying rather than hovering. It is packed full of food and party activities for the occasion.

…

The airplane flies through the sky across a vast ocean having long since left the mountains and trees behind. Inside the skycraft, the Ox King lays on his back tossing Gohan up into the air and letting him fall before catching him with his large hands. Gohan laughs the entire time.

"Gohan, huh," says the Ox King more to himself than anyone else. "I don't hear that name very often anymore. I'm glad you two decided to name him after my old training partner. I sure miss him. You even let him have the that trinket Gohan used to own."

The Ox King looks admiringly deep into the reflective surface of the Four Star Dragon Ball sitting on the hat Gohan is wearing.

"Well he was the one that raised me," says Goku. "If he hadn't found me in the woods that day, I don't know what would have happened to me. He's the one who taught me martial arts. Without that, I don't know who I'd be."

"We love the way you are Goku," says Chichi. "And we are eternally grateful to your grandpa Gohan for raising you the way he did. You have saved the planet several times now after all. And that's what this whole trip is about. Remembering our friends and family of the t and the memories we have of them."

"Yeah I guess so," says Goku. "But speaking of training, whatever happened to that scary armor you used to wear Ox King? How are people going to know you're a fighter without it?" He looks at the once intimidating man who now wears a pink button up shirt and suspenders.

"Oh I retired that years ago. I've seen how powerful you and the new generation are and decided to leave the fighting up to you young whippersnappers."

"That's too bad," sighs Goku.

"Not really. Being a good grandpa like ole Gohan was to you is all I want to do now."

"Hm, I guess," considers Goku.

"There's nothing wrong with being a family man Goku," says Chichi joining the conversation. "You could learn a thing or two about that, instead of spending so much time on martial arts."

"Well now Chichi, I didn't say that," says the Ox King. "I taught you everything I knew about it because that lifestyle is good for your mental and physical health. I hope you still practice it and have taught Gohan as well."

"I really don't want to have this discussion again. But for the hundredth time, yes I still practice and yes I'm letting Gohan learn too. But I hope he never has to use it. After the last World Martial Arts Tournament, I fear for everyone's safety with that monster Piccolo running around. Anyway, martial arts is no way to make a living, so I make sure Gohan studies as much as Goku wants him to train. I love you Goku, but your lack of an education is really bothersome."

A moment passes in which she expects Goku's usual response on this tired topic, but there is only silence.

"Goku?" she asks.

"Hey Chichi, is this the button that opens the cargo hatch door?" asks Goku from the back of the plane.

"Goku, you do know you can't open that while we're flying right? So you really shouldn't worry about where that button is," says Chichi a little frustrated that he was not listening to her.

"It's just that I'm bored flying around in this thing. The Nimbus Cloud would be much faster. And if I get to Master Roshi's before you guys do, maybe I can get in a little sparring with Krillin or Yamcha."

"You will do no such thing Goku!" shouts Chichi. "We are having some quality family time and—"

A sudden rush of air and the sound of mechanical pistons firing cut her off. Chichi whips her head around to see the hatch door opening and Goku standing next to it with a goofy smile on his face.

"What's that honey?" asks Goku yelling over the wind. "I can't hear you. I'll see you at Master Roshi's."

"Don't you dare!" protests Chichi.

After a quick wave, Goku makes a leaping flip through the still opening door. He falls head first towards the ocean with his body in a spiral.

"NIMBUS!" he shouts at the top of his lungs.

A golden cloud comes racing through the sky towards its caller. Just before Goku slams into the ocean waters, he somersaults and lands on his feet upon the feathery magical mass that catches him while still maintaining its incredible speed. Goku zooms off in a spray of salty mist and catches up with the airplane he was just on in mere seconds. Despite not falling through the yellow cloud he stands on, it still feels like his feet are not on anything solid. And no matter how many times he rides it, Goku never tires of the rush and speed it produces.

Goku waves at Chichi who is too busy to notice because she is screaming at her father to hold on to her son while she searches desperately for the button that closes the hatch. They hit a patch of turbulence that knocks Gohan from the Ox King's grasp. The boy stumbles towards the gaping opening and cries out in fear of falling to his death. The Ox King staggers off balance as fast as he can to prevent his grandson from an untimely end when another pocket of rough air shakes the plane violently.

Both grandfather and grandson are knocked off their feet and slide helplessly toward the horrifying exit. The Ox King grabs uselessly for something to get his hands on. Gohan slips out of the craft into open air.

The tears spilling from his eyes stop immediately as his look of terror is replaced with an intense anger and determination. A red aura of ki no one sees envelops his body as he shoots back into the plane. Along the way he smashes into the Ox King preventing him from falling out as well. They slam into the packages and seating as Chichi finally finds the right button and closes the hatch.

"Are you two okay? How's my baby boy?" asks Chichi frantically.

"Uh, yeah I think we are," replies the Ox King.

"I'm so grateful you were able to grab him dad. Thank you for saving saving him," she says nearly in tears from losing her child.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," says Ox King looking bewildered at his grandson who no longer shows any signs of the power he displayed seconds ago and not knowing how they got where they are now.

Goku races on ahead of his family to meet up with friends he has not seen since his fateful battle with Piccolo.

…

Elsewhere, the spaceship approaching Earth collides with the planet's atmosphere. The friction of the pod meeting air causes the metal to violently heat up to a whitish red. It tears through the sky like an ominous sign of ill fortune until it crash lands in an open field. The resulting explosion craters the ground and obliterates all surface level life within a quarter mile radius. Somehow, the ship is unharmed despite the thirty yard impact hole.

A seal beyond the perimeter of the red glass opens with a hiss and lowers the front third of the sphere like a door on a hinge. The alien arrival steps out of his pod to inspect his surroundings.

"Now Kakarot," he says to himself. "Where are you hiding?" A cruel smile creeps onto his face.


	2. Goku and Friends Together Again

The alien warrior stands in the center of the crater made by his spaceship. The armor he wears is made of a non-reflective material and consists of a well fitted torso piece with extending pointed shoulder pads. Three plates similar to the shoulder protection hang from the waist to protect the upper legs. These protrusions accent the the black armor with their golden brown coloring. Under that is an equally form fitting black jumpsuit from neck to foot. White boots and gloves complete his uniform.

He reaches for a device snugly attached to his left ear. The device covers his entire ear as though it is some kind of headphone piece. An extension on it reaches forward towards his eye. Coming from this armature is a transparent, green lens that curves to cover his eye. He pushes a red button on the armature causing the lens to light up with indecipherable symbols.

"Hm. No significant power levels in the area. I suppose I'll have to take a little tour," the alien visitor murmurs to himself. "This is agent Cui reporting in. I'm beginning my reconnaissance mission to determine if this planet has been prepared for colonization. So far no significant signs of destruction are visible. This could either mean Kakarot has failed his mission, or he succeeded early enough that local flora and fauna have been able to repopulate. I will check in with an update when I know more. End of report log."

The warrior began to levitate off the ground, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed with an aura of energy growing in intensity around him. He shoots a couple thousand feet into the air where he stops for a moment. Then he rockets forward as his arua erupts around him again.

…

Goku sees Master Roshi's island on the horizon and urges his magic cloud to go faster. Soon enough he is directly over the tiny landmass and jumps from the Nimbus with joyful glee.

"Heyyyy!" he shouts as he falls to the beach below.

Inside Kame House, Goku's voice echoes through the ears of his gathered friends.

"Eh," reacts Krillin turning to look out the window. "I'd know that shrill yell anywhere. Goku's here!"

"Goku!" yells Bulma and Yamcha simultaneous getting up and moving towards the door. They bump shoulders which sends an uncomfortable shiver down their spines. They jump away from each other with a glare.

"Hey you two," says Turtle in his calming voice. "Remember we're here as friends even if you two are no longer dating. Okay?"

Bulma and Yamcha continue to leer at each other for a moment before each turns away with a disgusted "hmph."

"Oh Yamcha," whispers Puar sadly.

"You know Bulma," Oolong says slyly, "I'm single too."

"Not on your life pig," Bulma shouts.

_Ah, to be young and having adventures in love,_ thinks Master Roshi observing the scene and smiling. _Even if these two didn't work out with one another, they have so much time ahead to find the right person._

A bead of blood runs down from his left nostril as he returns his attention to the perverted magazine he is holding.

Unable to contain his excitement, Krillin jumps out of the large window of the living room instead of waiting for Bulma and Yamcha to settle their dispute about who would use the front door first. Just as his feet touch the sand outside, Goku hits the beach. The two friends joyfully run to one another. When they get close enough to give each other a hug like normal people, they break into a sparring match throwing punches and kicks mixed with blocks and dodges. They both manage to land a punch on each other square in the cheek at the same time. They stagger backward stunned for a moment. Instead of crying out in pain, they just start laughing heartily.

"You boys haven't changed at all over these past five years," says Master Roshi after moving through the stalemate blocking the door and watching the end of their exchange. Everyone else finally shuffles out onto the porch with him.

"Hello Master Roshi," says Goku with a bow. "It's good to see you. Turtle, Oolong Puar. Nice to see you again too. And Bulma and Yamcha. Are you guys married yet?"

Krillin's short body turns cold at the question as the smiles sink from everyone's face.

"Married to that jerk?" announces Bulma jumping back from Yamcha and pointing, "no way!"

"Well you're no prize yourself," retorts Yamcha.

"What was that?" screeches Bulma.

"Now, now. Let's all calm down," says Master Roshi rubbing Bulma's shoulders. His hands start to move down her body, but Bulma slaps him across the face sending him hurtling off the porch and head first into the sand.

"Hands off old man," says Bulma firmly.

"I guess you haven't changed much either Master Roshi," says Krillin helping his teacher stand up.

The obvious statement manages to make everyone laugh and regain their good humor.

…

"What's going on here?" asks Cui aloud in frustration. He frowns and the antenne-like tentacles extending from the corners of his mouth droop lower than usual. "All intelligent life should have been eradicated by Kakarot and yet there are signs of civilization everywhere I go on this planet. Did Kakarot fail in his mission? Did the native population kill him? He wouldn't have been sent here if the inhabitants had higher power levels than him, and I haven't found a single one higher than the last recording we have of him on file."

He pushes the button on his head device. This time it returns a reading that stops his flight dead in the air.

"Uh, what's this?" he says shocked. A power level of 322! There's no way Kakarot could have increased his strength that much. This must be the one who killed him. Well whoever you are, I hope you didn't have any plans today because I have some questions!"

He blasts through the sky at top speed in the direction indicated by his device which tracks readings as well as giving them. As he flies, he notices the scenery of cityscapes give way to deserted arid wastelands filled with rugged plateaus of rock.

…

Piccolo meditates atop a rocky mountain far from the world he intends to one day conquer. He is interrupted by the sickening feeling of an evil presence.

"What is this power?" he questions to the heavens. "It can't be Goku. He couldn't have gotten this strong since the tournament. Besides, it's too ominous for his disgustingly goody nature. But then who?

"Heh, I guess I'm about to find out because it's heading straight for me. And at that speed, I'd never outrun it."

…

Atop one of the earthly formations he flies over, Cui spots a humanoid figure which his device is directing him towards. Before he can sneak up on the person from his enormous height advantage, the figure turns around and looks directly at him.

_How did he find me?_ thinks Cui. _Does he have some sort of device like my scouter that can locate power levels? I didn't think this planet was advanced enough to invent such a thing. Oh well doesn't matter._

With that he descends rapidly to meet the person with the unusually high power level. As he gets closer, he makes out a few interesting details. This man does not look like the rest of the population. He has green skin and wears a turban and cape. Just before landing in front of the strange man, the alien slows to a stop and gently touches down with his boots barely making a sound.

"I thought I sensed something foul in the air," says Piccolo, "I didn't think it'd be this ugly though."

"Oh very funny but have you looked in a mirror," retorts Cui. "I bet you hear that from everyone you meet."

"So just who the hell are you and what do you want?" demands Piccolo. Then thinking to himself, _if this guy wants a fight, I don't think I can take him. Better prepare something just in case._

Piccolo summons ki to his left arm which remains cloaked in his white cape while his right arm remains out in the open ready to strike or block if necessary.

"Who I am is of little consequence to you. As for what I want, I'm looking for someone I'm hoping you've crossed paths with. Do you know anyone by the name of Kakarot?"

Piccolo's left bicep and tricep bulge with energy as it moves from the core of his body towards his hand.

"Kakarot huh," Piccolo nearly grunts out trying to continue the conversation while charging his ki blast.

The energy moves into his forearm letting the previous muscles return to their normal size while swelling those it now occupies. The strange device on his adversary's head makes a beeping noise accompanied by some flashing lights.

"Never heard of him. Maybe you could describe him for me," says Piccolo still stalling for time.

A wicked smile slithers onto the purple man's face.

"Certainly," he says. "I've never met him myself, but he's a Saiyan and all Saiyans have monkey tails."

Piccolo thinks for a moment as his ki passes into his hand nearly ready to be fired. An old memory struggles to the forefront of his thoughts. One that was not his, but that of his father King Piccolo who he is a reincarnation of. The memory is of a much younger Goku when he still had a monkey's tail.

The look of concentration left Piccolo's face as he chuckles.

"Oh, you're looking for Goku," says Piccolo.

"Go-who?" asks the alien. "Whe—"

Before he can finish, Piccolo uses the moment of confusion to thrust his left arm forward and unleash all his power in a single devastating blast. Most of the mountain peak gets decimated in the resulting explosion leaving Piccolo waiting for the smoke to clear. To his dismay, the sound of a clearing throat comes from within the cloud of debris.

"My, my. I'm impressed. You've managed to upset my allergies," says Cui's voice. The wind brushes away enough dust to reveal his unharmed self to his green foe. "Unfortunately for you, my scouter has picked up another power level a little higher than yours which makes you … disposable."

"What! No wai—," screams Piccolo as the invincible warrior fires his own energy blast without warning.

Piccolo's body limply falls from the mountain as his attacker watches the charred remains plummet to the ground far below.

"Now let's see if this next victim is a little more cooperative," says the warrior as he flies off towards his target.

…

On Master Roshi's island, Chichi is landing the plane she flew over. She and her son and father get off the craft and are greeted not with hellos but stares.

"Who's that boy you're holding," asks Bulma to Chichi. Gohan twists away from all the unwanted attention.

"This is our son Gohan," she replies.

"Wait, whahhh?" processes Yamcha. "Goku has a son. Woah. And here I thought I'd be the first one with a kid."

"In your dreams," scoffs Bulma.

"Hey what's that supposed to mean?" says Yamcha offended.

"It means you're not father material let alone boyfriend material," declares Bulma.

Krillin moves in for closer observation of the new member to their group. Before he can say hello to the child, he notices Gohan's most defining physical feature. The boy has a tail just like Goku had as a child.

"Ahh … uh, uh, uh," he stammers with his whole body shaking.

"What's the matter Krillin?" asks Oolong. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Krillin turns to the pig and then shakily points out Gohan's tail. Oolong immediately joins Krillin in his tumultuous panic. Bulma, Yamcha, Puar, and Roshi all take note of the unassuming appendage that once transformed Goku into a mindless rampaging monster.

"What's wrong guys?" asks Goku noticing the pale horrified expressions of his friends.

"Uh, Goku," asks Bulma, "Your son has a tail."

"Yeah, but so did I when I was a kid," says Goku. "What's the big deal?"

"Oh it's nothing," says Bulma quickly. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't experiencing any–um–abnormalities."

"Abnor–what?" asks a confused Goku.

"Oh you know, like strange body changes such as growth spurts or becoming hairy."

"Oh no nothing like that," Goku says. "Besides, that kind of stuff didn't happen to me until I was a teenager."

"Oh, kay, ew," says Bulma disgusted.

"What Bulma means," interjects Yamcha, "is that we want to know if he's safe is all. Like does he come inside before dark and stuff."

"Oh yes, absolutely," confirms Goku. "Chichi has him on a strict bedtime before sunset."

"Whew," sighs Goku's friends in collective relief.

"Besides, he's with me, and I'm the strongest person on the planet."

And as soon as he spoke those words, almost as if the universe wanted to correct his ignorant hubris, a terrifying presence set off his ki sense. Goku never experienced true fear in the face of a strong adversary before because of his love of a good challenge, but this feeling is different. The overwhelming power and malice of spirit he can sense is nothing like ever before, even King Piccolo could not compare. And the ki signature is heading straight for him and his loved ones' location.

"Chichi," says Goku sternly with a worry she had never seen in her husband's eyes before. "Take Gohan inside now."

"What?" she asks concerned and confused.

"Do it now," he barely lets her finish.

"What's wrong Goku? Are you feeling okay?" Krillin asks.

"Too late! It's already here," Goku says looking around frantically. "It's even faster than I imagined it was."

"What is? What's here…" trails off Krillin as he finally senses the enormous power.

"I feel it too," confirms Yamcha shifting his eyes across the horizon. "But where?"

"There!" yells Goku turning his head to the sky.

Everyone whips their gaze upward to find their intruder. A purple skinned humanoid in strange armor descends rapidly upon them from several hundred feet in the air. His landing causes a forceful gust of wind to blow sand across their faces. They wince a little and squint their eyes. Everyone is too stunned to do anything, so the uninvited guest breaks the silence.

"I'm looking for Kakarot. And for your sake, I hope you know where he is."


	3. Cui Crashes the Party

Goku and his friends stand dead still on the island. The only sound comes from the ocean wind and waves and the beeping of the electronic device attached to the face of alien menace infringing on their reunion.

"I'm surprised to find so many power levels on this planet in the triple digits," announces Cui cryptically. "Few species can even break the lower double digits. No wonder Kakarot had so much trouble wiping out the native population."

"What are you talking about? And who are you?" demands Goku braver than he feels.

"I already told you, I'm looking for a Saiyan named Kakarot, but I …" Cui pauses for a moment as his eyes land on something of interest while surveying the group. "Well, well, what have we here? A boy with a tail. So Kakarot may be alive after all. Tell me woman, where is the father of the child you hold."

Chichi grips Gohan tighter as the purple man walks toward her. Goku steps in front of him halting his advance.

"That's my son," he announces. "Now leave this island peacefully. I don't want any unnecessary violence."

"You're adoptive son I take it, seeing as you lack a tail," says Cui. "I'm looking for his biological father. Would you happen to know who that is?"

"I already told you. I'm his father, and I used to have a tail but it was removed a long time ago," says Goku setting the record straight.

Cui glares at him as if deciding whether or not to believe his story. After a tense moment, the foreigner bursts into laughter.

"Ah, ha, ha. A Saiyan without a tail. That's hilarious. You were barely of any value before. Now you're practically worthless. I suppose I can pull some strings and get you a position scrubbing out our spaceships. But before that you better at least have some useful intel about this planet."

"Look," says Goku in a serious manner rarely seen. "I don't know who Kakarot is or what Saiyans are, but you need to go back to wherever you came from and tell your people you have the wrong person."

"Well you certainly have the ignorance of a Saiyan that's for sure," spat Cui. "Let me try to clear things up for you. Saiyans are a nearly extinct warrior race employed by an intergalactic empire that has conquered most of the known universe. We find inhabitable planets, wipe out any intelligent life if it exists, and colonize these planets with those who have sworn allegiance to the empire. They in turn pay tribute in the form of taxes and valuable resources. You are one of those Saiyans sent here to get this planet ready for conquest. Is any of this getting through to that tiny monkey brain of yours?"

"I already told you, you have the wrong person," replies Goku resolutely. "And I won't hear any more talk of Earth being destroyed. This is my home. If what you're saying is somehow true, then I left that life behind a long time ago. So tell whoever you work for to leave this planet alone."

"That's very disappointing to hear Kakarot," growls Cui. "Still, I can't exactly go back empty handed. You see I have a reputation to maintain. Since you appear to be a hopeless cause, I think I'll take your son back with me as a replacement. Hopefully he's still young enough that your weak mentality hasn't brainwashed him beyond usefulness as a soldier. Plus, he still has his tail so at least the rest of the Saiyans won't make fun of him."

Goku instantly strikes a fighting pose with Krillin, Yamcha, and Master Roshi doing the same.

"I won't let you lay a hand on my son," declares Goku.

"I was hoping you'd say that," says Cui gleefully before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Goku manages to track the alien's movement behind him but is unable to stop the fierce knee to his lower back. The attack lifts him off the ground radiating pain across his entire body through his nervous system. The paralyzing pain prevents him from blocking another strike to his exposed side. A strong foot punts him across the beach.

His two friends and master spring forward together hoping to get the drop on the aggressor. Cui easily brushes them aside with his immense speed. They hit the dirt just as hard as Goku. He then walks threateningly towards Chichi.

She puts her son down behind her and readies her own fighting stance. It has been a long time since she was in a real fight, but her instincts return to her immediately from years of training. Before she can do anything, her father charges forward like a bull.

"I won't let you hurt my grandson," the Ox King yells while charging.

A swift palm to the chin followed by another to his exposed chest sends the big man crashing down onto his back gasping for air. Before her eyes can even leave her father's body and get back to the assailant, Cui backhands her across the face causing her body to spiral as it falls to the ground.

Gohan tries to run to her motionless body, but Cui yanks him up by the collar of his shirt. He floats off the beach slowly and takes another look at the decimated group below. Bulma, Turtle, Oolong, and Puar stare up at him in horror.

"Hey Kakarot," announces Cui. "I'll tell you what. I have to make a report about your miserable failure and call in an extermination crew to fix your mistake. But if you make a sincere attempt to start killing off all the worthless lifeforms of this planet before they arrive, maybe we'll let you return to the empire and even see your son again."

With a raucous laughter Cui burst off into the sky in an explosion of aura leaving only traces of a trail behind. When it seems safe to move, Bulma runs to Goku, Oolong to Krillin, Puar to Yamcha, and Turtle to Master Roshi to check on them.

"Goku, Goku!" shouts Bulma kneeling at his side. He coughs painfully and tries to get to his feet. "Slow down," she pleads, "don't exert yourself."

"Where's my son? Where's Gohan?" he grunts out barely making it to a sitting position.

"He … he's gone," she stammers. "That bastard took him."

"And Chichi?" he questions straining to see her still body. "Don't worry about me, check on her."

"Uh, yeah, right," says Bulma. She hurries over to the unconscious woman.

Goku takes stock of the aftermath while putting a hands on his throbbing back and side. Krillin and Yamcha were managing to pick themselves up a little at a time. Master Roshi and the Ox King were coming to as well. When his wife stirs for the first time, he lets out a held sigh and begins breathing a little easier.

His mind now clear of worry for the safety of the others, it starts reviewing the beat down he and his friends just received. He wants to rescue his son as quickly as possible. But first he needs to decide if his loss was due to the surprise of such a strong enemy or whether that enemy really would be unbeatable. Then again, the choice really does not exist since that alien could leave the planet at any moment. With that conclusion in mind, he jumps to his feet despite the pain.

"I'm going after him," announces Goku lifting off the ground. "Nimbus!"

Before he can get far, he feels a tug on his ankle. He looks down to see Krillin hanging from his boot. The short man strains with the effort needed to hold his friend back while fighting the pain from the recent encounter.

"What are you doing Krillin? Let me go," demands Goku. "I'm going to lose him if I don't go now."

"Goku we need a plan," wheezes Krillin.

"I'll think of one on the way now let go," shouts Goku shaking his leg.

"Would you stop being so stubborn for once in your life!" screams Krillin. "We need a plan first. I know you want to save Gohan, and so do we. But we don't want to lose you in the process. Now come down and rest for a moment, or I'll kick your ass."

Goku could not remember a time his friend spoke so strongly. Krillin had always been a somewhat timid personality in the face of danger of this magnitude. He takes a deep breath and descends to the beach with his friend where they both drop to one knee still hurting from the previous assault.

"Bulma," Krillin calls out. "Do you have the Dragon Radar?"

"Yeah, but I don't see how … oh!" she says realizing Krillin's plan. "We can find Gohan's location by tracking the Dragon Ball on his head."

"Right," agrees Krillin. "So that's not an issue. Now let's figure out how we're going to rescue him besides rushing in unprepared."

"Maybe we can get the jump on that alien scum since he doesn't know we can find him," says Yamcha now standing up. "We could hit him from all sides hard and fast. He'll never see it coming!"

"Hm, I wonder about that," ponders Krillin.

"What do you mean Krillin?" asks Bulma helping Chichi sit up so she could now give her full attention to the conversation about saving her son.

"How do you think he found us all the way out here?" asks Krillin rhetorically. "That device he wore on his face seemed to be scanning us and then he mentioned something about power levels. It's almost like that device can sense ki. Of course that's just a theory, and I agree sneaking up on him is a great idea, but we need to be ready in case that doesn't work."

"Very insightful Krillin. Well done," notes Master Roshi. The old man rests against the shell of Turtle. "If stealth ends up not working, we do still have the advantage of numbers if we team up."

"That's right," says Yamcha. "He didn't stick around to try and fight us all. He got the jump on us and then ran away as quick as he could. I bet he's scared. We can beat him if we all take him on."

"It'll still be very dangerous," says Goku. "I can't let you all risk your lives. You've already done that in many of our past battles. And Master Roshi and Krillin have already died once battling King Piccolo. After I lost Grandpa Gohan, I thought I'd be alone the rest of my life. All I had was the martial arts he taught me. And then you all slowly became my friends and new family. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to any of you."

"Yeah but you wished us back to life with the Dragon Balls, so we just need someone to bring us back if the worst should happen," says Krillin somewhat cheerfully.

"It won't work a second time," says Goku forlornly. "When I trained with Kami who created the Dragon Balls, he told me that Shenron won't grant the same wish twice. So we can't bring you or Master Roshi back again."

"Oh man," says a dismayed Krillin. "That sucks."

"Indeed," agrees Master Roshi.

"It's fine," announces Yamcha. "You two stay out of this one. Let Goku and me handle it."

"You sure about that Yamcha?" asks Puar.

"Absolutely! You know how restless I've been these past few years. I could use a little action," the long haired man says stretching and flexing his body like the encounter with the alien had no effect on him.

Puar stares at him solemnly knowing all too well his showmanship covered for his uncertainty. But she could never stop him from doing what he thought was right.

"I know it's risky, but I won't back out either. And this is my decision so don't try to talk me out of it," says Krillin. Then thinking to himself, _oh man what am I saying. I've got a bad feeling about this._

"I can't let my students show me up," says Master Roshi helping himself to his feet by pushing off of Turtle's shell. "I'm a bit out of practice, but I can still be of help."

"Are you two sure?" asks Goku to which they both nod consent.

"And I'm going too," declares Chichi. She strides confidently forward toward the male dominated group. "And I won't hear any arguments to the contrary Goku. He's my son too, and I will do whatever it takes to protect my baby boy."

Goku knows there's no stopping her when determination sets fire to her eyes like that.


	4. Plan of Attack

Bulma races through the sky pushing the cargo plane from her set of Capsule vehicles as fast as it will go. She follows the beeping of the Dragon Radar directing her to the location of the Four Star Dragon Ball. Her passengers converse behind her in the cargo hull finalizing their plan of attack.

"Okay one more time," says Chichi.

"I'll go in first to get his attention focused on me," says Goku.

"Krillin and I won't be far behind to hopefully catch him off guard and act as the first line of backup if Goku gets in trouble," continues Yamcha confidently.

Krillin nods in agreement with a hesitant gulp. His eyes never leave the floor.

"And finally," finishes Chichi, "Bulma will fly over dropping Master Roshi and I off to grab Gohan and get out of there."

With that, the group moves away from each other to prepare mentally for the task at hand. Goku approaches Yamcha who is stretching his right shoulder by swinging his arm in a windmill fashion.

"You sure you're ready to fly down there from up here Yamcha," asks Goku.

"Like I told you. After watching you and Krillin do it in the last World Martial Arts Tournament, I taught myself how to do it too," replies Yamcha. "That said, I'm glad we flew in a plane because I can't fly very fast yet."

Yamcha notices Krillin intently focused on the metal floor.

"You know the only time I thought I was catching you guys was when I learned the Kamehameha for the previous tournament," he says. Then speaking directly to his short friend, "but Krillin, you surprised everyone by using it your first time that same tournament. I couldn't believe it. Then after Tien and Chiaotzu showed us it could be done, you mastered flying for the next one. You are incredible."

Goku smiles as Krillin's face lightens up with some positivity for the first time since boarding the plane.

"I hope you guys are ready," calls Bulma over her shoulder. "We're nearly there."

The group of warriors steel themselves for the rescue mission to come.

…

Gohan cried during the entire flight back to Cui's spaceship landing site leaving the alien extremely irritated with the young child.

"Stop your wailing already. I need to make a report and can't have you screaming in the background," commands Cui to the boy wrapped around the waist under his arm. "Besides, you should be happy for the opportunity to join the greatest empire in the universe rather than becoming a worthless weakling on this soon to be destroyed planet. You should thank me actually, for saving your miserable life."

When the behavior did not subside, he offers a threat. "Either stop your crying or I'm going to lock you in my pod until you do."

The threat only causes Gohan to intensify his tantrum.

"Fine, have it your way," says Cui. He pulls out a flat remote from under his armor and presses a button. His spaceship unseals as the door drops down. He shoves Gohan inside and closes it up immediately to prevent escape.

As he walks back up the crater made by his landing, his scouter goes off. It detects a power level beyond anything he has encountered on this planet so far. Cui spins around trying to follow the direction indicated by the device as the source of the danger. It points directly to the space pod where he deposited Gohan. The device continues to careen upward through the six hundreds before slowing down and settling just over seven hundred.

"I'm–impossible," stammers Cui. "A child couldn't have a power level that high. It's over twice as strong as his low class father. And, and even if he did, power levels are supposed to static and only change slightly over long periods of time. How can his change so drastically so suddenly?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Get a hold of yourself," he calms himself down. "Obviously it's time for a new scouter. This one has finally gone on the fritz.

"Anyway, time to report in. Argh–eh–hm. This is Cui providing a status update. Kakarot has failed to prepare this planet for colonization. I repeat we will need an extermination team sent in to eliminate the native population. When my ship finishes recharging, I will return to base with more in depth details. I am bringing an interesting souvenir, though. Kakarot had a son who could be useful to us. Cui signing off."

The visitor sits down atop the crater waiting for the energy source of his ship to finish replenishing itself in order to lift off of the planet. He checks his scounter again pointing it at the kid in his space pod.

"It's still fluctuating around seven hundred," he says annoyed.

He rocks back and forth slightly while patting his thighs with each hand in an alternating manner. He always hates waiting around in between missions when he could be out conquering the next planet for the empire. Then he remembers something that could alleviate his boredom. He strolls down the crater's slope and opens his ship. Gohan cowers to the back as Cui's arm somewhat hesitantly reaches in while his scouter continues to remind him of the supposed threat the child's power level poses. He grabs hold of the orange sphere atop the boy's head and holds it up to his face to examine it.

"Tell me kid. What is this strange jewel? Is it worth anything?" inquires Cui.

"I–I don't have to tell you anything you big, big, evil meanie!" says Gohan starting to cry again.

"Hm. So you have a little fight in you after all. How about I make a deal with you? You tell me about this jewel and then I won't kill your family and friends," offers Cui.

"My daddy's not afraid of you. He's the strongest person there is!"

"Ha, I've got news for you punk. Your daddy may be the biggest fish on this tiny pond of a planet, but where I come from, he's not even worth snacking on," says Cui grabbing Gohan by the collar and lifting him to the sky. Fear enters the boy's eyes now and his power level begins to drop. "Now tell me what I want to know."

"It's a Dragon Ball," weeps Gohan.

"See. Was that so hard?" says Cui shoving Gohan back in the pod. "Now is it valuable?"

"It could be I guess. If you find someone who knows what they do."

"They? There's more than one? And what do they do?"

"My daddy says if you collect all seven, a magic dragon is summoned that will grant any wish asked of it."

"That's quite a story. Seven magic balls that summon a wish granting dragon," muses Cui. " You know. Maybe I will join the extermination squad. It could be fun trying to find the other six while destroying this place. It would certainly break up the monotony of killing defenseless weaklings."

Just then, Cui's scouter went off indicating several strong power levels approaching his location.

"What the?" he says in surprise. "These are the same readings I got from Kakarot and his gang of losers. But how could they know where I am?"

"I told you my dad wasn't afraid of you," Gohan says in triumph.

"You little brat," growls Cui. "There's still no way they could have found my ship."

"My dad has a radar that can find the Dragon Balls," Gohan continues to brag. "Now you're going to be sorry."

"A radar huh," says Cui. "If these jewels really do give off an energy signal that can be detected, then maybe there's some truth to your little story after all. Thanks for the information kid. I'll be sure to take this radar your father has from his dead body when I kill him and his pesky friends." Cui smiles horrifically while allowing himself to entertain the thought of actually making any wish he wanted for a moment.

Gohan's brief moment of superiority ends in a renewed terror. Cui locks up the pod again and walks out of the crater. After getting several yards away from it he stops.

"And as a little insurance for success," plots Cui. "I've got a surprise for them."

He pulls a vial from his armor with caps on both ends and a divider separating it into two halves. One half is full of tiny green spheres while the other holds an almost luminous green liquid. He drops to one knee and opens one end of the bottle. He dumps the little orbs into his palm and works them one at a time so they drop to the ground spread evenly apart. He casually pokes each one beneath the surface before unscrewing the cap on the other side. The liquid spills forth over the disturbed soil.

"Drink up little ones. You're going to have some fun soon."


	5. The Battle for Gohan Begins

Goku shot directly from the plane towards the soon to be battlefield on his Nimbus cloud. Krillin and Yamcha ready themselves to jump next in order to fly in from opposite sides and flank their enemy. Just before doing so, Bulma turns back from the driver's seat with a concerned look on her face.

"Krillin, be careful out there okay. We don't want to lose you again," she says. "Yamcha, I…" she pauses for a moment. "Make sure you come back too." Then she whips around face front to hide a blush that reddens her cheeks. Yamcha smiles.

"We will," he says confidently. "You guys play it safe too. Don't act until you know we've got him where we want him." Then to his short friend, "let's do this."

Krillin nods and watches his wild haired comrade jump from the back of the plane and curve off to the right. He gulps and leaps forth gliding to the left. He looks back over his shoulder at the plane wondering what he was getting himself into. He saw Bulma adjust the plane's course to move into position for her part of the plan. He turns his head to find Goku who he knew would be engaging the enemy soon.

Goku drives the Nimbus cloud down at a steep angle towards the crater made by the inavder's ship. He can just barely see the alien kidnapper now and wills his transport to fly faster. The golden cloud smoothly increases its angle of decent until it is almost perpendicular to the ground. Just when it seems like it will crash into the grassy field, it levels off several feet before impact and heads straight for the target. Goku leaps from the cloud and lands about thirty feet from the deplorable opponent.

"Where's my son? Give Gohan back," he demands not wasting any time.

"I must say Kakarot, your resolve to run directly into battle is impressive," mocks Cui. "You're more of a Saiyan than I gave you credit for. But I won't let you off easy this time."

"You're the one that won't get off easy," says Goku flicking off his weighted wristbands. He next grabs at his shirt to remove the weighted vest. Finally he drops to a sitting position to take off his heavy as iron boots.

Cui watches the spectacle with amusement as the scouter on his face ticks up to 416.

"Training with weighted clothing huh," laughs Cui. "Well if you're going to die, you might as well be comfortable when you do!"

"Alright, here I go," Goku says to himself focusing his ki with a quick martial arts body movement.

He charges forward with great agility to combat his foe. Before he can close the distance, the earth before him explodes open as five new enemies rise from it to stop him. Little green men about Krillin's height leap from their burrows to attack him.

Goku defensively blocks the first blow unsure of what they are capable of. He manages to avoid getting slashed by the razor sharp claws at the end of the leading monster's hand by bumping its forearm aside with his own. The appendage feels like a plant rather than a human arm, like he had been slapped by a thick vine.

The four other green warriors surround him quickly to overwhelm him as a group. He is more than fast enough to avoid being hit by the following onslaught of scraping punches and kicks but completely unable to retaliate. He charges a large amount of ki in the center of his body. It is more than he wants to use on minions but knows he will burn through the same amount trying to keep up the current tractionless situation. He finds a small window to retract his arms and legs to his body focusing the energy just a bit tighter before thrusting his limbs straight out. His ki expands outwards to his hands and feet before escaping the body in a spherical burst of pressure.

The full body Kiai blast pushes the strange plantlike creatures back in a gust of air sending them tumbling. With the minions divided and vulnerable, he leaps toward the closet one with a heave of breathing from the exhaustive technique.

_I can take out one,_ he thinks, _but that Kiai took a lot out of me and the others will recover before I can draw out any more ki. Will I have enough energy left to take out the other four?_

As he unloads a powerful combination of strikes, he sees Yamcha swoop in to assist.

"Rogafufuken," he howls as his aura begins to give off an animalistic bloodlust. His signature attack tears into one of the goblins like a wolf's teeth into its prey.

Krillin witnesses the display of his friends from his hiding spot behind a tree on the edges of the battlefield. When the green plant men disrupted the plan with their unexpected appearance, he froze up. They reminded him of King Piccolo's henchman Tambourine. Along with the memory came the paralyzing fear of death. But seeing two of them recovering and about to strike his friends who were distracted trying to finish off their current targets rouses him to take action.

Not wanting to get too close, he summones ki to both hands in the form of yellow orbs as he makes three elongated strides towards the fight. He fires them as beams at the two foes about to counterattack. The fifth one notices his attempt and lets out a warning screech. The two in his sights turn to see the beams bearing down on them.

One manages to dodge by jumping over it while the other evades to the side. After regaining their composure from the sneak attack, they turn their attention solely to him. They rush at him with claws at the ready. The warning screech comes again. They both look back to find the beams Krillin fired have looped around straight back at them. There is no time to avoid the attack which connects in an explosion. Their smoking bodies crash to the ground.

Goku and Yamcha finish the beatings on their respective adversaries leaving them in motionless heaps in the dirt. The remaining creature looks to Cui for assistance.

"Well?" the alien fires back crossing his arms clearly not intending to offer any help to his underling.

"I'll take care of the last one," announces Yamcha immediately dashing to the remaining enemy.

_Hm,_ muses Cui. _This guy is quite the go getter. I'm surprised he took out a Saibaman when his power level is a pitiful 177. That technique of his must allow him to channel all of it into a single attack. That's a dangerous tactic though as it leaves nothing left to defend himself with._ A coy smile curls the corners of his lips.

"Rogafufuken!" shouts Yamcha.

Goku senses a shift in the saibaman as it hunches down in preparation for Yamcha's attack.

"Yamcha! Wait!" warns Goku but his friend has already fully committed.

The saibaman's bulbous head splits open vertically down the middle to between its eyes. A bubbling grayish green liquid giving off steam and a strong odor sprays forth from the opening. It sizzles through the air at the charging Yamcha covering a wide area. His feet trip over themselves as he uncertainly tries to decide if dodging to the side or backwards would be better. Finally he attempts to dive back the way he came as the chemical substance rains down upon him.

Yamcha lies on the ground screaming in pain, the grass around him instantly vaporized into fumes by the acidic liquid. Nearly his entire left leg and his right one from the knee down burn from it. His light orange gi becomes a patchwork of holes as the skin below reddens with second degree burns.

The saibaman wastes no time pouncing on the wounded man. It gallops on four legs to pick up speed before launching into the air to drop on him with its sharp clawed hands and feet. Before it can reach its target, it hears a voice from overhead.

"Kamehame…" chants Master Roshi as he falls through the sky charging his ki wave. Bulma's plane flies by having made a pass in order to drop off the old man.

"Hah!" shouts the turtle hermit on the last syllable before releasing the destructive ki blast.

A beam of blue light shoots from his cupped together hands directly down into the green underling. The force smashes the foe into the dirt and presses down on it with continuous concussive waves. The power of it actually slows Master Roshi's fall while digging a hole into the soil. When he is a safe distance from the earth, he finishes the beam with a backflip to the ground landing in a fighter's stance.

"Is Yamcha okay?" asks Bulma from her pilot seat.

"Yes," answers Chichi panning the battlefield from their vantage point in the plane above. "Master Roshi stopped that monster. But I haven't seen Gohan. He must be in that strange pod in the crater."

"Okay," says Bulma with a sigh of relief. "If the boys down there can finish off those green freaks, they should then be able to distract the purple one. We should wait until then.

Chichi thinks it over for a moment wanting her son back in her arms as soon as possible.

"You're right," she says finally. Then under her breath, "hold on Gohan. Be careful Goku."

Back on the battlefield, the two Saibamen Krillin struck down are getting back up on their feet having only been stunned. They rush down the bald man hoping to take him out in a two on one scuffle before any of the other fighters can interfere.

"Krillin!" shouts Goku fleeing to his friend. Realizing he will not make it he throws out an instruction. "I'll be right there, hang tough for just a few seconds."

Master Roshi attempts to follow his former pupil only to drop to one knee on his first step.

"Darn it," he breathes heavily. "I must have put more stamina into that blast than I realized. Sorry Goku, Krillin. I can't help this time."

Krillin shuffles a retreating foot behind him opening his stance to an attack. His skin breaks out in bumps as a cold sweat chills him with fear. Goku senses a significant drop in his friend's ki as the fighting spirit drains away. Krillin was in even more danger than he imagined.

The assault is swift and brutal. The Saibamen batter Krillin back and forth between themselves leaving him bloodied and bruised in an instant. The sight of his friend being beaten forces Goku to ready his signature ranged attack to try and prevent a fatal blow.

"Kah. Meh. Hah. Meh. Hah!" screams Goku hoping the technique will get there in time.

The wave of energy tears over the grassy field creating a furrow of churned dirt along its path. The biggest concern now is not hitting his friend while trying to save him. He manages to curve the beam just enough to accurately make contact with one of the plant men. In a flash of light, the saibaman deteriorates into a smoldering husk missing various body parts.

The amount of concentration necessary to perform the precise shot left him no attention to spare for the other one. It flanks him from the side as his previous attack is finishing up. With no time to react or recover his stamina from the beam attack, the goblin latches onto his torso by wrapping all four of its vine-like appendages around him pinning his arms to his sides.

Goku stares horrified as the creature smiles impishly into his face and begins to glow a hot white. In panic, Goku begins struggling with all the ki he has left rather than taking a moment to draw out more for a single bigger burst. The creature responds by clamping its grasping hands and feet together in a double lock as its body gets hotter and brighter with the crescendoing energy in its body.

"Heh heh," laughs Cui. "The kaboom is always my favorite part."


	6. Goku and Piccolo, Working Together?

Sweat breaks out on Goku's face as the once green creature, now a blinding white, is about to explode from the unstable energy building within its core. Fleshy fissures start to tear the Saibaman apart from the inside so the ki can escape as rays of light streaming in every direction. The heat radiating from the little monster's body feels like it will burn a hole through his chest cavity. Goku shuts his eyes as a futile last act of defense when the brightness is finally too much to look at any longer.

The expected end does not come. Instead, the piercing white light penetrating through his eyelids subsides along with the heat as the death grip on his body loosens. Goku slowly opens his eyes still seeing spots as his vision adjusts to normal sunlight. Before him lies the headless body of the fiendish goblin with a green dark liquid pooling beneath it from the stump.

"Honestly Goku, you're pathetic," sounds a familiar yet hideous voice he recognizes as Piccolo's. "Risking your life for these weaklings is a waste when you should be focusing your efforts on the real issue. I was planning on ambushing him if you guys had actually managed to distract him for a minute instead of struggling with this trash." He drops the head of the minion he clinically severed with his scalpel-like fingernails.

"Piccolo?" says Goku turning his head and shoulders back to look at his rival. The tall green skinned man shakes gooey blood from his hand. "You saved me?"

"Don't get the wrong idea Goku," replies the raspy voice. "I only did it because, and it pains me to say this, I need your help taking out our purple friend over there. In fact I just recently recovered from an encounter with him and was on my way to enlist your assistance. Imagine my surprise when I came across this little party of yours."

"Gee, it's nice to see you too," Goku says. "Sure, yeah, shoot why not. Let's team up and rescue my son. But don't think this means I'll forgive you for endangering my friends during our last battle."

Heh," scoffs Piccolo. "Like I care about getting in your good graces or about your son. And when we're done, I'll resume my plans to conquer this world because you don't have the stomach to do what it takes to stop me. Without me, you don't have any Dragon Balls, and you wouldn't want that now would you?"

As he says this, Piccolo removes his turban and casually drops it to his side. It hits the ground almost immediately after leaving his hand because of the massive weight it conceals. Then he pushes the cape draped shoulderpads up over his head and lets them go on the opposite side. It thuds to the ground even faster with its much greater mass. Goku watches as his nemesis massages his neck and shoulders now free of the burden. Cui's scouter bleeps out a reading of 408.

Goku smirks thinking, _I wonder if he started wearing weighted clothing because of me or if he'd been doing it in preparation for our match in the last World Martial Arts Tournament?_

_Interesting,_ thinks Cui after overhearing the conversation. _I'm honestly surprised the green man's still alive but he seems to have some connection to these Dragon Balls. Lucky me. Maybe there's something to this legend after all._

Then he addresses the squabbling duo directly. "Alright you two. I don't exactly have a lot of time here to listen to the two of you bicker. Whether or not you work together is of no concern to me. Personally I'd prefer if you did as that will make things go quicker. So what's it going to be?"

"You ready Piccolo?" asks Goku.

The reincarnation of the Demon King roars and charges toward the foe. Goku storms off right behind him. Together, they let loose a barrage of punches and kicks to put Cui on the defensive. Their attacks are swift and precise making their opponent look clumsy by comparison. But the alien blocks and dodges their blows by compensating with sheer power and greater speed.

With the final battle beginning, Master Roshi slings Yamcha over the back of his shoulders as carefully as he can while still using great haste. He knows they have no place in this fight and gets his student and himself away from the action. He heads towards Krillin to check on his condition.

Cui catches Goku in the face with a right hook and quickly unwinds to roundhouse kick Piccolo in the side with his left leg. The two combatants fall away before swiftly regaining their balance with a couple yards distance to regroup. The whole time, Cui's scouter is measuring their battle prowess.

_What's going on here?_ he thinks. A frown creases his face in frustration. _Their power levels have barely dipped at all after exerting such effort in their attack. They should have at least dropped considerably from the hits I landed on them. And what little power they did lose is already recovering back to its maximum. How can this be? They seem to have more battle experience than their power levels let on. I should be more cautious._

Cui whips his hand up towards Piccolo and fires an energy blast. The acceleration of the violet sphere warps it into an oblong bullet gunning for its target. The green skinned man twists away from the attack recoiling just enough to tilt his body out of the way. Goku's eyes instinctively follows the movement of the ki bolt giving Cui the half second he needs to slip in beside him.

The purple humanoid unleashes a flurry of knuckles and shins Goku cannot keep up with on his own. Cui breaks through his defenses, knocks his stance off balance with a heavy palm to the chest, and then raises his right arm over his opposite shoulder to deliver a devastating elbow to an exposed vital area.

Piccolo charges in hoping to catch the foe off guard with an outstretched arm to punch with. Cui smirks as his feint lures in his second adversary. A violet aura forms around his raised hand and forearm. It hums with a sharpness as it cuts downward through the air in a karate chop. The slicing attack bisects Piccolo's right arm at the bicep removing it completely with a spurt of purple blood. The detached limb flops about in a useless attempt to carry out its final command.

He retreats screaming in agony gripping the stub of the missing appendage like a vice with his remaining hand to stem the bleeding. Goku uses the opening to disengage from the battle for a moment's reprieve.

"How you doin' there Piccolo?" asks Goku not taking his eyes off Cui.

"Hurahh!" Piccolo grunts out the rest of the initial shock of the trauma. "I can still fight. I'll just be a little handicapped."

Cui glares through the lens of his scouter as it continues to monitor the battle status of his opponents.

"This is absurd!" he fumes to himself. "Kakarot barely lost any power from my attack again, and it's steadily rising back to its max, albeit slower. And the green guy only lost ninety points from having his arm chopped off and even his power is slowly returning!

"I've never heard of anything like this before. My power also starts to return when I get a breather during battle but nowhere near as fast as these two. Just how much do they have in reserve? I'd estimate I've almost dipped into the triple digits. If they are somehow able to keep this up, they could actually outlast me! I need to end this now."

…

On the sidelines, Master Roshi, Yamcha, and Krillin watch anxiously. Yamcha and Krillin lie on their back and stomach respectively both propped up on their elbows to see the fight. Their teacher sits cross legged between them.

"Do you think they can win?" says Yamcha with a grimace.

"It looks pretty bad now that Piccolo took such a serious injury," says Krillin.

"Hm," ponders Master Roshi. "My guess is that the only reason those two are still alive right now is because that warrior doesn't know how to turn all of his active ki into a single attack or defense like they can. If that's the case, and they are very careful and incredibly lucky, they may just be able to barely win."

"Uh, active ki?" asks Krillin. "Is that different from regular ki?"

"Usually such a distinction doesn't have to be made with regular martial artists," explains Master Roshi. "But Goku and Piccolo are far from normal. Ordinarily, martial artists train to raise the amount of ki they have access too. This is known as your active ki. It's a pool of energy readily available to perform superhuman feats. It's the aura that you feel surrounding your body and can sense surrounding the bodies of other martial artists.

"How much of this ki a user puts into an attack or defense determines how strong that technique is. If you're as well disciplined as Goku and Piccolo, you can use the full amount for any action like attacking or defending. Less practiced individuals like that purple dude can only use a certain percentage of their ki per technique instead of all of it."

"So if that alien was twice as strong as Goku and Piccolo and he could only use up to fifty percent of his ki at a time," says Yamcha testing his understanding of the concept, "then they can use their ki control to match his half powered attacks with their full powered defenses and use their full powered attacks against his half powered defenses?"

"In a perfect world, yes," confirms Master Roshi.

"So if there's an active ki, is there a passive ki?" asks Krillin.

"There is indeed," says Master Roshi with a gleam in his eye at his perceptive pupil. "One's passive ki pool is the total amount of life force one has, and it is drawn from when filling one's active ki pool. It is imperceivable even with the greatest of extra sensory awareness. The better your ki control, the quicker you're able to shift ki between these two reservoirs that can hold it. Theoretically, someone could mask their presence entirely by keeping all of their ki in their passive pool and instantly drawing it out for a single powerful strike and thereby catch their unsuspecting opponent by surprise."

"Wow," says Yamcha in awe. "So those two not only have high active amounts of ki, but can produce even more when that runs out?"

"Precisely," says Master Roshi.

They look on as the battle continues.

…

"So Piccolo, any good ideas?" asks Goku smiling despite the dire situation.

"Heh, yeah I've got something that might work," says Piccolo. "It's a new technique I've been working on. It'll put your little Kamehameha to shame."

"Oh really. I'd like to see someth'n like that," says Goku cheekily.

"Well the problem is I haven't perfected it yet. It'll take me a few minutes to charge. And I can only do it once. Given how fast this guy is, it's likely I won't even hit him with it."

"Hm, that does sound risky, and I don't think I can hold him off for more than thirty seconds by myself. But if you could handle him that long, I should be able to hit him with a Super Kamehameha. You know, like the one I used against you?"

Piccolo ignores the verbal jab. "It might be tough missing an arm, but I think I can manage. Just make sure you give it everything you got. Don't get soft on me and hold back like you've done with past enemies. Remember, he kidnapped your son. He needs to be stopped with any force or means necessary."

"Right," agrees Goku. "This is for Gohan, not me."

"Good Goku. There's hope for you yet," Piccolo says with a raw smile. "Now get ready, I'm going in!"

Goku prepares his ultimate attack by calming his mind with a tranquil flowing movement of the body as he takes his stance. With his hands cupped at the hips away from the target, he begins channeling all of his ki to the compressed space between his palms. Meanwhile, Piccolo charges ferociously forward on stampeding legs. He raises his remaining arm while pumping it with power. His shoulder bulges followed by his upper arm as the ki works its way down his limb to the palm for an explosive blast.


	7. Desperate Final Attack, It Must Succeed

A yellow orb of energy shines through Piccolo's clenched fingers. Cui readies himself knowing he can dodge it easily. He keeps an eye on Goku as well confident that he can block whatever attack the man is preparing even if it uses the Saiyan's maximum battle power. And it probably will. The obvious strategy when facing a more powerful enemy is to hit him with your most powerful attack and see if it can penetrate their defense. None of their tactics will surprise his vast combat experience, though.

Instead of throwing the grenade-like attack, Piccolo's eyes twinkle with ki as a white laser shoots out of each. Not expecting the green skinned combatant to be able use two separate energy attacks simultaneously, Cui's own eyes widen in shock as he takes both shots to the chest. The sharp thin rays nearly puncture his armor as the impact sends him stumbling backward. Piccolo hurls the explosive ball he has been holding and follows after it to complete his approach.

The orb erupts in Cui's face consuming him in light and concussive force. With his opponent's sight and hearing impaired by the blast, Piccolo launches himself into a flying kick with one outstretched leg. The heel of his foot rams into the gut of his foe. Cui buckles forward from the impact.

Observing the diversion Piccolo is enforcing on their enemy, Goku charges his attack as quickly as he can.

"Kah, meh," he recites stressing each syllable intensely. He feels the ki swelling in his body as it flows like an ocean tide to his hands.

Piccolo tries to slash his adversary's exposed neck area with the sharp fingernails of an open palm strike hoping to hit a vital blood vessel. Cui's own hand grips his with a crushing force that bends his wrist harmlessly back disabling the attempt. The alien's other arm punches him hard in the stomach returning the favor from earlier twofold.

"Hah, meh," continues Goku as he watches the momentum of the fight slip out of his comrade's favor.

Cui's scouter goes off alerting him to a dangerous power level.

"What? Where?" asks a bewildered Cui. "850 and still growing!"

His scouter points him to Goku who is now glowing in a bluish white aura that wisps away from his body like ribbons in the wind.

"It's not possible!" Cui screams. "His top rating was only 416. He shouldn't be able to generate anything above that! I can't possibly block it if it hits me!"

Cui starts to levitate off the ground in order to gain more dodging options for the threatening attack, ignoring Piccolo entirely.

"Where do you think you're going?" asks Piccolo through gritted teeth from the previous vomit inducing hit.

He attempts to strike his foe. Before he can even initiate it, Cui slams the palm of his hand into Piccolo's chest pushing off of him with a pulse of energy to accelerate his ascent. Piccolo staggers backward as Cui moves quickly into the air ready to dart in any direction.

"HA!" shouts Goku thrusting his palms forward with wrists together. The ki amasses itself there for just a moment before exploding forth in a beam as big as himself.

"Not fast enough," scoffs Cui dashing in an upward angle from the ground. His body jolts to an instant stop as the blast screams towards him. "Huh?"

He looks at his ankle to see Piccolo's somehow elongated arm tethering him to the earth. The arm sways at the strain from the tension of holding him back while nearly five times its usual length. He cannot spare even a second to wonder about this bizarre biological feat as Goku's incoming energy attack demands his full attention. Piccolo remains safely out of the way still on the field while Cui puts both arms out in front of him to brace for impact as his scouter reads off 924.

The cylindrical beam of blue and white ki smashes into him carrying him through the sky along its course blowing straight through his attempted defense. The attack carries his body upward and away from the battle site.

Goku drops to one knee as the ki finishes leaving his body. The beam begins to thin until it disappears entirely. The target of the blast falls from the sky without any attempt to break its fall. It crashes into the meadow with a dull thud.

…

"Did they do it? Did they win?" says Krillin almost too afraid to ask.

"It sure looks that way. But how did Goku do that?" wonders Yamcha. "I thought neither one of them had enough active ki to use an attack strong enough to take that purple guy out."

"That's true," agrees Master Roshi. "But Goku didn't use any ordinary Kamehameha. He has long since evolved it beyond the original technique I created. Normally a ki ability is designed to use a specific percentage of your power. That way you can use a weaker or stronger skill depending on the situation and avoid wasting ki.

"Well I designed the Kamehameha to have versatility built in. It's unique because you can use anything from zero to one hundred percent of your ki. Once I could do that, I really had no need for any other offensive techniques.

"But Goku has invented a superior version to even mine. Instead of limiting himself to just his active ki, he is now able to draw on his passive ki once he has channeled everything else into the attack first."

"Wow, that's incredible," says an astonished Krillin.

"Yeah Goku's the man!" agrees Yamcha.

Master Roshi discreetly frets to himself, _but if you two knew the consequences of such a powerful technique, you wouldn't be celebrating just yet. For everyone's sake, I hope this fight truly is over._

…

Bulma lands the plane on the opposite side of the crater from where the alien abductor's body fell. Bulma and Chichi jump out to assess the situation. Goku, off to their left, gawks at their sudden arrival. Piccolo, farther to their right and closer to the impact site, sneers at their presence.

"What are you two doing here?" exclaims Goku.

"We came to help now that the fight is over," answers Bulma.

"But it's not over! He's still alive!" warns Goku. "You need to get out of here right now!"

"He is?" says Bulma immediately turning back to the plane.

Chichi however advances her position and stands her ground. A sign of movement from the space warrior gets their attention. They all turn to see the purple man struggle to his feet. His armor has been almost completely destroyed with his black jumpsuit in tatters. Every instance of exposed skin blisters with burns. The effort necessary to reach a somewhat hunched posture leaves him gasping for air. The rest of his armor crumbles away as rigid pieces having lost any elasticity after taking the attack.

"This can't be happening," Cui yells at himself. "How could I have been brought so low by these weaklings? If it wasn't for my armor being designed to handle power levels up to 500 and absorbing that much of his attack, I wouldn't have survived that blast."

He presses the button on his scouter to measure the remaining strength of his adversaries. The lens is cracked and chipped and hums with a low static sound in his ear.

"So the green guy is below two hundred and Kakarot is slowly recovering from the low double digits," he says. "Then it's time to end this."

Cui grits his teeth as an expression brimming with anger takes control of his face. His stamina appears to be inexhaustible as he starts making swift strides to reach his depleted opponents who can only watch hopelessly.

Along the way, he raises his hand so his palm faces at the newly arrived women. A violet orb appears within his reaching fingers as he wavers his whole arm back and forth between the two possible targets. Upon settling on one of them, the ki bullet shoots off pushing his wrist back from the recoil.

"Bulma!" shouts Goku lurching forward with what little strength he has left.

His wobbly legs hobble him towards his very first friend. He leans his upper body forward so the awkward amount of weight pulls him faster. His arms dangle uselessly at his sides as every spare ounce of stamina drives his straining leg muscles. He crashes his upper arm into the side of Bulma's body causing her to buckle to the ground. A hot searing pain tears through his abdomen.

Goku hits the ground hard as any semblance of balance rips out from under him with the energy shot puncturing his body. Face down in the dirt, he heaves for air but the pain keeps him from inhaling too deeply. His breaths come in coughs and wheezes.

"Goku!" shouts Chichi and Bulma at the same time.

Bulma crawls over to him to see if she can alleviate any pain or manage the wound. The injury looks to have torn through his right side just below the ribcage and out the back damaging flesh, bone, and organ.

…

"I don't get it Master Roshi," says Yamcha. "Shouldn't Goku's ki return quick enough to defend against that attack, even if just a little."

"I'm afraid not after a Kamehameha like that," says Master Roshi hanging his head.

"But why not?" asks Krillin.

"Because pulling directly from your passive ki for a technique instead of your active ki has one major drawback," explains the master. "Doing so dramatically lowers how quickly he can refill his active pool since it fills up from the same source he just depleted. He has to build up his passive ki again before he can do anything else."

"Oh man, this is bad," says Krillin still only able to watch.

…

"Goku, you fool," lambasts Piccolo. "I told you not to waste your efforts on these worthless friends of yours. Now who's going to save your son?"

"You monster," yells Chichi charging forth.

The anger in her voice silences Piccolo who worries it is directed at him. The spike in her life force leaves him agape as she dashes past him.

"First you kidnap my son. Then you injure my husband," Chichi rages.

Cui's scouter goes off racing from 130 to 243.

"Not another one with a fluctuating power level," he complains while preparing for the unexpected challenger.

Chichi opens her assault with a right cross straight punch brushing his cheek as he barely dodges. She fluidly follows with a left hook he manages to duck. As her left arm comes through, she drops her elbow and shoves Cui with her shoulder driving from the legs. The alien waves his arms for balance as she twists from the pushing motion into a roundhouse kick pivoting on her left foot. The ball of her right foot catches Cui squarely in the jaw forcing his whole body to move with the inertia of the strike.

Gohan watches his mother through the glass of the space pod he is locked in. He can just barely see them over the crater's edge. He follows along with a few mock punches of his own as he cheers her on.

Chichi throws another punch, but Cui catches her forearm with a tight grip and jabs her in the face with the same hand. He smiles and takes a full swing with his other arm to smack her across the opposite side of the face. With his victim stunned, he knees her in the stomach staggering her back a few steps. Cui continues to relish the moment with a few more hits.

Gohan watches helplessly as his mother is beaten. Each hit she takes feels like a punch to the gut for him. Again and again she is struck and again and again his stomach clenches. And then something snaps. Anger surges through him with every hit making his rage grow. A red aura begins to glow around his body as the electrical components of the spacecraft start to spark and short circuit.

Cui stops his attack in a cold sweat as his scouter rockets up to a reading of 1,307. Before he can even follow the arrows indicating its source, metal debris explodes from the crater of his landing site as his vehicle is blown apart. The small boy previously trapped inside leaps from the expansive basin. He lands in the grassy field seething with fury.

"LEAVE MY MOMMY ALONE!" Gohan cries out.

The shout alone is laced with ki as a current of it washes over the space warrior filling him with dread. Cui starts to take a step back, and that's when Gohan launches straight at him enveloped in a rage fueled crimson aura. The child streaks through the air with fully extended arms ending in clenched fists.

There is no time to react. The boy plows directly into Cui's torso who is powerless and armorless to stop it. The purple alien's body seems to break at the point of impact as it bends unnaturally far at the waist. Gohan is surrounded by the limp arms and legs that buckle together above and below him. Then the two bounce apart landing several yards away from each other, both of them still.


	8. A Dear Friend and Fallen Hero

"Gohan!" shouts Chichi.

She instantly sprints over to her son ignoring the danger the alien kidnapper poses or the injuries inflicted on her. Her dark bruises and safety mean nothing compared to the well being of her son. As she runs, she drops to her knees and slides on her shins to stop next to Gohan. She carefully cradles him in her arms being mindful to support his head and neck. The boy stirs at the touch and opens his eyes.

"Mommy?" asks Gohan looking around. "What happened?"

"Gohan, Gohan. My baby boy," Chichi sobs.

She hears murmuring coming from the space invader. The voice mumbles too softly to discern any words. She picks up her son and cautiously backs away never for a moment taking her eyes off the still motionless enemy. A terrifying roar finally rips her locked eyes away.

"Stop him!" yells Piccolo rushing towards her.

One arm lets go of her son to block the green demon's attack. She knew he could not be trusted. Now he wants to kill her son as some revenge plot against her husband while he cannot defend himself. She braces for the imminent collision.

To her surprise, Piccolo dashes straight passed to the foe behind her.

"What did you do?" he demands of the alien. "Who did you contact?"

"Heh … heh," Cui half laughs and half coughs. "You see this device on my face. It acts as a voice transmitter. It's been recording ever since I arrived on your planet. They know everything." A heavy wheeze interrupts his speech.

"Who does?" says Piccolo.

"The empire I work for," says Cui with his voice weakening. The purple man turns his eyes to the sky no longer fixating them on Piccolo. "They know about you and your friends. I'm sure they'll—hurreck…"

Cui sputters into a coughing fit spitting up a purplish black substance.

"I'm sure they'll be especially interested in these Dragon Balls of yours," he finishes.

"What about the Saiyans you mentioned?" presses Piccolo for as much information as he can get from the dying man.

"Oh you heard that did you," Cui whispers as his eyes begin to close. "That's some impressive hearing you have. I wanted it to be a surprise. I put in a personal request that the extermination team I called in be comprised of our Saiyan squadron. It seemed fitting, wouldn't you agree?"

"When? When will they be here?" says Piccolo.

"And they're … much stronger … than me…"

Cui trails off into a quiet laborious breathing.

"When and how many!" Piccolo demands again.

The life fades from Cui's eyes but a smile remains on his face.

"AARRGH!" screams Piccolo.

The stump of his missing arm begins to bulge as something pushes its way out. A brand new arm shoots out of the fresh wound covered in a yellowish purple mix of blood and mucus. He looks at the new appendage as he flexes all of its muscles and joints. After checking its functionality, he turns to Chichi.

"I'm taking your son," he states.

"You're what…" she says still processing everything that has happened.

Piccolo rises into the air and points an index finger upward as he does. Gohan jerks away from his mother's arms on a telekinetic impulse. Chichi, too tired to hold her son back, cries out as the boy shrieks and reaches for her grasping hands. He zips up into Piccolo's grip who is now several yards above the ground.

"Listen to me very carefully," he says looking down on her. "My sense of hearing is far more developed than you humans. I heard every word our friend over there said before he died. A more powerful enemy is coming. A group of Saiyans who are even stronger than him. I don't know when they will get here or how many there will be.

"But I do know Goku isn't going to survive his injury. Make sure you wish him back. We're going to need him. And we're also going to need your son. He displayed an incredible power unlike anything I've ever seen, and I'm going to train him how to use it. Tell the rest of those losers to prepare themselves as well. It's going to take everything we have."

With that, he flew off leaving Chichi to sink to her knees in despair. Knowing she could not just sit there even though she wants to, she forces herself to her feet and begins walking towards her husband. Each step stabs at her body as the impacts aggravate every aching bruise received in the fight. Her mind is elsewhere as she reflexively moves to her destination.

She does not even notice Yamcha being carried by Master Roshi and Krillin to the same location. The old man carries him with forearms under his armpits while following his shorter friend who has slung both of his knees over each shoulder. They reach Goku at about the same time. Bulma has managed to get him on his back with his head resting in her lap. A pool of blood gathers beneath his wound.

"How you doing there buddy?" asks Krillin as he works gently with his teacher to set Yamcha down.

Goku breathes in deeply. "Not good," he says.

"Oh Goku. This is all my fault," Bulma laments.

"No it's not," deflects Goku. "That alien guy did this." He turns to Chichi who stares off into the distance distractedly. "Why did Piccolo take Gohan away?"

Chichi finally breaks down into tears as she explains what her husband's rival told her.

"It's okay Chichi," Goku says raspily. "Gohan is safe from that alien because of you. He's a smart boy. You know that. He'll get back to you. I know he will."

Chichi can only nod in hopeful agreement.

"And as for the Saiyans," he continues with the pool of blood under his torso growing bigger, "make sure you wish me back as soon as you can. I'll need to start training right away if I'm going to be strong enough to face them."

And then Goku was gone. For a moment those gathered at his side remained silent and hopeless. They barely survived this battle and at such great cost. They wondered how they would manage against the even greater evil already set to purpose against them.

Krillin finally broke the silence.

"Well that's our Goku," he says. "Always ready for the next challenge."

"He certainly is," agrees Yamcha. "And we'll have him back in no time just like he wanted."

"Right." agreed Bulma joining with false positivity. "And when he is, we'll get Gohan back next."

"That won't be necessary," says a voice startling them all.

The anxious group turn towards the sound of the new speaker and find none other than Earth's guardian Kami standing before them.

"I'm sorry to meet with you all again under such tragic circumstances," says Kami. "I have been monitoring the situation and have prepared special arrangements for Goku in the Other World to deal with our looming threat. I ask that you do not revive him with the Dragon Balls until he is finished."

"You're supposed to be god?" whispers Chichi. Her body shakes as she looks at the ground. "Then where were you when my son was kidnapped?"

Her head springs up to stare down the old and withered guardian of Earth, her eyes flush with anger.

"Where were you when my husband fought that monster and lost his life because of it!" she continues irately, almost screaming hysterically. "Where were you when my baby boy was taken from me a second time by the very demon you created! And then you have the nerve to show up now after everything's over and say you have some sort of plan!"

She jumps to her feet ready to swing at the elderly green skinned man. Master Roshi and Krillin each grab one of her arms.

"HOW DARE YOU!" she screams while being held back. "How dare you!"

She repeats the phrase several times with each instance draining her of energy. She collapses to her knees in a sobbing mess inconsolable by her husband's friends.

"I am deeply sorry," replies Kami solemnly. "Even as guardian of Earth, my powers are limited. I promise to watch over your son and will do whatever I can to make sure he returns to you.

"I would also like to request that Krillin and Yamcha," he says looking from one to the other as he speaks their names, "meet at Korin Tower as soon as possible. I wish to provide you both with special training so you are ready to face this new enemy. Master Roshi, you are welcome to join as well. Your mastery of marital arts would prove a valuable asset. And Chichi, I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but you show great potential. If you wish to, there will be a spot for you as well."

His announcement met with silence.

"I'll take my leave then."

"Hold on a minute," says Bulma.

She carefully gets out from under Goku's head as if she might wake him from his sleep if she moves him too much.

"You can't just ask Yamcha and Krillin or anyone else to risk their lives again," she states. "They hardly got through this fight alive. These Saiyans are supposed to be even stronger and you want to train them so there's maybe a chance they'll be safe. That's absurd."

"It's okay Bulma," says Yamcha. "I appreciate the concern, but I want to fight. I want to protect you and my friends."

"But it's not fair," she protests. "What if you don't come back again?"

"Hey, I made it out of this fight, and I'll be even better prepared for the next enemy. So of course I'll come back. I promise."

"You don't know that, you jerk. You can't promise anything," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

He winces a little as his injured legs get disturbed by the motion, but he puts a hand on the small of her back. She pushes away from him with an ecstatic smile on her face. The sudden motion causes him to cry out in pain.

"What if we used the Dragon Balls to destroy the Saiyans?" she proclaims enthusiastically.

For a moment, the rest of the faces in the group light up with smiles at the prospect of such a solution, everyone except for Kami and Chichi.

"I'm afraid that won't work," the guardian says.

"Aw, why not?" moans Bulma.

"I am the creator of the Dragon Balls so anyone stronger than me cannot be killed by Shenron," explains Kami. "The space warrior Goku and Piccolo fought was one such being. If these Saiyans really are more powerful than him, then I'm afraid the wish cannot be granted."

"Oh man that sucks," says Krillin. His face sinks the most at the news.

"And there's another problem with making a wish other than reviving Goku," continues Kami. "Shenron can only bring back someone who has died within the past year. And as you know, the balls become inert for exactly one year. So even if you made a wish this very day…"

"It would take a full year to make another wish and we would be a day too late to bring Goku back," says Bulma concluding his thought. "So even if we came up with a better wish, like for the galactic empire targeting Earth to just forget it exists, we would have to choose between it and Goku."

"Precisely," says Kami. "So I guess you have a decision to make."


	9. New Adventures for Goku and Gohan

"So Bulma," says Krillin finally breaking the tense drone of the engines, "what are you going to do with all this alien technology?"

He looks over his shoulder from his position next to her as she flies her cargo plane. Master Roshi and Chichi sit in the row of seats behind them. Chichi stares absently out the side window. Yamcha lies on a side bench in the cargo area. Next to him the back of the vehicle is loaded with parts of the spaceship Gohan destroyed in his rage. Before leaving the battle site, Bulma asked everyone to pick up what pieces they could including the ki reading device on the alien's face.

"I'm going to study it of course and see what I can learn from it," she says in a less than conversational tone. "We're going to need all the information we can get to prepare for the Saiyans."

"Oh yeah, right. That sounds like a good idea," says Krillin.

They had agreed to wish Goku back and go along with Kami's plan to handle the Saiyans whenever they arrived. Memories of his fallen friend play through Krillin's mind but so do worrying thoughts. Were they not endangering the whole world now? His mind feels heavy from the weight of the implications and importance of such a decision as Bulma flies them to Korin Tower.

His stomach seizes with anxiety at the thought of actually sharing these contemplations aloud. What would Bulma, Yamcha and Master Roshi think if he dared consider not reviving someone they cared so deeply for? Or even worse, how could he mention it to Chichi when she had lost so much already? And yet, he could not shake the feeling that they now risked losing everything by not using the Dragon Balls to intervene in their problem. Despite these agonizing thoughts, he bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut about them.

"So where do you think Kami took Goku's body when they both disappeared after he met with us?" asks Krillin trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"It's hard to say Krillin," offers Master Roshi. "But hopefully, Goku's ready for whatever he has planned."

And with that, they all return to their silent ruminations.

…

"I want to go home to my mom and dad," wails Gohan.

"Yeah well your dad's gone now and you're stuck with me," says Piccolo grumpily. His mood is sour from the boy's constant crying during their flight to the training grounds he picked out to prepare for the arrival of the Saiyans.

"What do you mean he's gone?" yells Gohan working himself into a nervous breathing.

"I mean he's dead. That purple man who kidnapped you killed him," Piccolo says. The corners of his mouth curl up a bit gleefully at the expense of his old rival.

"No. No. No, No!" screams Gohan. "I want my daddy here now!"

His blood begins to boil, and his power level begins to rise. Piccolo realizes how dangerous training the boy could be if he ever becomes the target of Gohan's rage. He quickly tries to calm the child down.

"It's okay. Your mother is going to gather the Dragon Balls and wish him back to life," he says hastily.

She, she is?" says Gohan processing the information. "So why did you take me away from her?"

"Unfortunately for the both of us, we have to clean up the mess Goku left us. So I'm going to train you into a martial artist," explains Piccolo.

"But I don't want to be a fighter. I don't want to fight anyone," says Gohan tearfully.

"I'm afraid fate doesn't always work out the way we want. Sometimes our fathers leave us with their dirty work and there's nothing we can do about it," says Piccolo scornfully. "So you're going to suck it up and work through it just like the rest of us have to do. But at least you have the luxury of a mentor rather than being left alone to figure it out. Besides, if you don't fight, then the entire Earth will be destroyed, and you may be the only one who can stop it from happening."

"Why me?" sobs Gohan.

"Because unbeknownst to you, you have a fearsome hidden power. I'm going to train you to harness that strength to use it against the Saiyans."

"Hidden power? What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're the one who defeated the alien who kidnapped you."

"But, but he was so powerful. I couldn't have."

"Not the way you are now, scared and self-doubting. You need to find your fighting spirit to harness your true potential. And nothing brings that out better than a need for survival. So I'm going to leave you in the wilderness for a while. When your back is to the wall and you have nowhere to run, you'll fight whether you want to or not. And that's how it'll be when the Saiyans arrive."

"But how long?"

Piccolo just smiles snidely as he levitates away to start his own training.

"Try not to die before I get back."

…

Goku and Kami stand before a giant mahogany desk three times their height. And behind that desk sits an enormous oni wearing a fine purple suit and orange tie. His red skinned face grimaces through a well kept but burly beard. Kami stands on wobbly legs while Goku smiles at the wondrous new situation he finds himself in. He is especially enamored with the golden halo glowing above his head that follows him everywhere no matter how he tries to outrun it.

"Why does the Guardian of Earth feel the need to interrupt my judgments," booms the massive ogre.

"Pardon my intrusion King Yemma," says Kami bowing profusely. "I know how busy you are, but I must testify on the behalf of the recently deceased Goku who now stands before you."

"Oh really," chuckles King Yemma. "I suppose I can spare some time for a brief break from my duties. But make it quick, I'm close to breaking my record number of judgments this century."

"Of course, of course. Thank you, thank you," says Kami giving his deepest bow.

"Hey Kami," whispers Goku. "Why are you so nervous? Is this guy really that much stronger than you?'

"Not now Goku," says Kami below his breath still hunched over. "Now show some respect and bow to King Yemma. If he doesn't approve of you, my plan won't work."

As Goku ducks into a bent over position, he notices a commotion far down a large hall. A young teenager in a green school uniform wrestles with several other human sized onis who staff the check-in station for the Other World. With enough help, the ogres finally drag the kid away from sight so Goku returns his attention to the conversation at hand.

"King Yemma, I request that Goku be allowed to meet King Kai to be trained in preparation for the Saiyans coming to Earth," says Kami.

A moment of silence greets his request.

"Bwahahaha," laughs King Yemma. "Yuhoohoo—you want me to let this fighting obsessed bumpkin meet with one of the gods of the universe. I'd be a laughing stock for granting such a high honor to someone who would waste their precious time. Hahaha."

"Please sir, I don't understand what is so funny," pleads Kami. "Earth will be destroyed if we don't train our defenders, and Goku has surpassed everyone there. He needs a higher being to train him to become stronger. And Goku has more than proven himself a noble warrior worthy of such an opportunity."

"Yes, yes. I know of his deeds," says King Yemma. He looks at his fingernails as if there is something more interesting stuck under them than the perils of Earth. "Defeating the Red Ribbon Army and King Piccolo are certainly impressive feats that benefited a lot of people. Merit enough to grant him access to Heaven rather than Hell. But according to my reading of those accomplishments they were done for selfish reasons of wanting to revive a fallen ally and avenge a close friend.

"And Goku can't hide his true intentions from me here. I know he's restless and desires a new master and stronger opponents even at the cost of Earth's safety. Isn't that right Goku?"

Before he can respond, Kami interjects.

"But sir, it's Goku's love of his family and friends that leads him to take action against evil forces like the alien who kidnapped his son," says Kami. "Surely that proves his worthiness."

"Kami, if I could say something," whispers Goku from behind. Kami looks at him nervously before nodding consent.

"Yo King Yemma," blurts out Goku.

Kami immediately seizes at the casual address.

"You're right. I do want more powerful masters and opponents," says Goku. "But Kami is also right. I've learned the value of other people and wish to protect them when possible. And maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not worthy of this King Kai guy, but is there anyone else who might be able to train me. Heck, you seem really strong. Maybe you could?"

Kami trembles in anticipation for the judge of the dead's response. A cold sweat chills the back of his neck. Goku could very well be sent to Hell if he angers the giant oni. And no one there would want to help him train.

"Hm," ponders King Yemma. "Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you're more pure of heart than I gave you credit for. Alright then. I'll grant you an audience with King Kai, but only on one condition. Currently I judge you worthy of entering Heaven. But if King Kai reports back to me that he is in any way displeased with your behavior while staying at his residence, I'm banishing you straight to Hell. So the choice is yours."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," says Goku confidently.

…

Three spherical spaceships like Cui's hurtle towards the surface of a planet. Instead of driving a crater into the ground upon impact, they hit landing pads twenty feet in diameter designed to absorb and diffuse the force of the collision. The spongy, elastic pads stretch and depress under the meteoric stress. Once the pods stabilize on their trampoline-like surfaces, they open with a hiss, and the occupants step out.

The three men are wearing standard armor for the galactic empire they serve which show varying degrees of use and damage. They are smeared with dirt and blood accompanied by crumpled and missing patches of their armor. Wrapped around their wastes are furry monkey tails signifying their racial ancestry. As they make their way across the landing sight, they encounter a beautiful man in similar armor to them.

"What brings you down here, Zarbon?" says the shortest of the three Saiyans. "I didn't think you would risk soiling that pretty appearance of yours among the grunts."

"Now, now Prince Vegeta," replies Zarbon coolly. He brushes a few strands of his long green hair from in front of his turquoise face. A jewel hanging from a beaded forehead chain bounces from the gesture. Two earrings with matching jewels jangle about as well. "I understand you're frustrated about losing a few more of your monkey brethren on this last mission, but there's no need to take it out on meee."

Zarbon holds the last syllable in a sassy tone. Vegeta furrows his brow in anger.

"Now there's only three of you Saiyans left. Such a pity," continues Zarbon. "Perhaps you're not the Prince you thought you were Vegeta. I mean how can you be a leader with only two followers."

"Take that back," says the tallest of the Saiyans stepping forward. His huge muscular physique alone would intimidate almost anyone.

"Easy Nappa," says Vegeta through gritted teeth. "What do you want Zarbon?"

"I've come to give you your next mission," Zarbon says.

"Why, you don't give out orders personally unless…" trails off Vegeta realizing what is going on. His eyes widen from slits of fury to open astonishment.

"That's right," says Zarbon. "I have a special assignment from Lord Freeza himself. But I think you'll be quite pleased with this one. You see, one of your monkey friends is causing us some trouble on a planet that is possibly more profitable than originally thought.

"Now obviously Lord Freeza is a busy man and can't be bothered with chasing mere rumors across the whole universe. So he wants you to investigate and interrogate this Saiyan and his friends. Find out what we want to know and then use the planet's full moon to prepare it for colonization as soon as possible."

"If it's so important," questions Vegeta, "why wait for us to get back and finish our days off between missions?"

"I'm afraid you misunderstand me," says Zarbon. "You'll be given no rest between missions this time. One of your own is responsible for this mess, so you Saiyans are going to clean it up."

"That's not fair!" shouts Nappa. "Freeza has been pushing us harder and harder every mission with less and less time off between them. And now we get none? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Silence Nappa," says Vegeta without turning to his comrade. His piercing gaze has returned in its full furious blaze. "We'll take the mission."

"Wonderful," says Zarbon. "I'm so glad there is at least one agreeable Saiyan among the lot of you. Honestly none of your kind would have been allowed into Freeza's army after what happened to your home world if it weren't for you Prince Vegeta. Now clean yourselves up before a debriefing meeting."

And with that, Zarbon swung his cape and walked away. When enough distance was between them, Nappa spoke again.

"I don't mean to question you my prince, but why do you continue to let Lord Freeza push us around like pack animals?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet Nappa?" asks Vegeta of his bald compatriot. "Freeza is afraid of us. We get stronger with every battle that pushes us to our limits. You and I have increased our power levels substantially since the passing of my father and joining Freeza's army proper.

"Even the low class warriors like you Raditz," continues Vegeta addressing the third member of their group, "were making at least some incremental increases in strength. Unfortunately they couldn't tough it out like we elites can. But that's how it is. The strong survive and the weak die. And if we keep pushing ourselves to the brink of death, then one day no one will challenge us. We can become what we once were before Freeza. The mightiest warriors in the universe."

Nappa smiles at the prospect of regaining the former glory of his once feared race. Raditz merely watches them with a grudging frown. His wild waist length hair flutters in the wind.

"Why so glum Raditz?" asks Nappa. "You should be happy. You won't be the weakest Saiyan anymore after we find that low class Kakarot."

Raditz remains in place for a moment as he watches the other two Saiyans head towards the barracks for the soldiers, then follows. Vegeta and Nappa laugh as they recount moments of their most recent conquest and boast of their merits. Raditz does not participate.


	10. The Dragon Team Gathers

As Bulma lands the plane near the base of Korin Tower, two men in handmade animal skin clothes approach from the surrounding woods. The smaller of them carries hunting equipment while the larger one has a freshly killed deer slung over his shoulders. They drop their stuff off at a tipi before approaching the flying vehicle.

"Wow Upa, you've really grown up," calls Krillin out of his window.

"Yeah, I bet I don't look like a girl anymore," laughs the now adolescent protector of the sacred lands.

Krillin rolls his eyes as his cheeks redden.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles.

"Korin came down to us on one of his flying clouds and informed us of what's going on," says the older, burlier man. "He said you might need these."

He pulls a pouch free from his leather belt and tosses it to Krillin who opens it eagerly.

"Oh wow, Senzu Beans!" he exclaims. "Thank you Bora."

Krillin eats one before swiveling in his seat to share them. His pain and injuries almost instantly go away as his strength and energy return just as quickly. He flicks two beans to his teacher and friend who hungrily gobble down the unassumingly hardy legume.

Chichi is a little more difficult as getting her attention proves nearly impossible. Her distracted mind does not seem to realize she is being offered a panacea to remove all of her pain and injuries. With great urging, she finally eats it, but there is no change in her demeanor. She does not jump to her feet like Yamcha or even smile like Master Roshi. She just pulls her knees to her chest and buries her head between them with her arms crossed overtop. The rest of them share worried glances before wordlessly agreeing to leave the plane to give her some space.

As they step off the aircraft, the ki inclined among them notice two life forces heading their way from above. They look to the sky to see Tien and Chiaotzu flying in from the horizon. Their bodies are encased with an impressive white aura as they perform the feat with great speed. Krillin runs forward waving his arms and laughing at their approach.

When the pair are directly above the clearing their comrades stand in, the auras enveloping their bodies disperse sending them into free fall. The drop is several hundred feet, but Tien lands safely with barely a bend of his knees. Chiaotzu plummets through the air behind him with an even stiffer form, his posture completely straight. But instead of preparing for a soft landing, his body remains rigid. Just when he is about to crash, his acceleration rapidly decreases until he is gently floating mere inches off the ground. From there he plops his feet onto solid earth.

"Wow, that was awesome," says Krillin to the new arrivals. "You guys must have been booking it way faster than we were flying in our plane to get here already."

Yamcha walks over casually not showing the same enthusiasm for the accomplishment. An old twinge of jealousy he had not felt in years crept in. He only just learned how to fly and these two were zipping around the sky making it look effortless.

"We came as soon as Kami told us what happened," says Tien. "Our condolences about Goku's passing. We know how close of a friend he was to the both of you."

"Hey Tien," shouts Bulma approaching with Master Roshi. "Looks like you haven't been slacking off these past few years."

She sends him a wink, and he returns a blush. Yamcha grimaces at the little exchange. Bulma just giggles at his discontent.

"So Tien, where's Launch," she asks playfully.

"Oh, she left Chiaotzu and I awhile ago. The monk lifestyle of meditating and living off the land wasn't for her," he explains plainly. "Not exciting enough I guess. It's for the best though. She was kind of a distraction."

"So you're single then?" Bulma says with a wry smile.

She glances at Yamcha from the corner of her eyes. His jaw is clenched in his usual frustrated tic she always finds so adorable. His teeth even grind a bit.

"And you're just as cute as ever Chiaotzu," she says to the only person shorter than Krillin now.

Chiaotzu blushes at her comment as well, except his is even more noticeable against his pure white skin. This gets a laugh out of the whole group, even Yamcha.

"So it's true then?" asks Upa. "Goku is really … he's really gone?"

The laughter stops.

"I'm afraid so," answers Master Roshi.

"Then you're going to wish him back to life with the Dragon Balls right? Like we did for my father?" Upa says.

"You bet we are," says Bulma. "I'm in charge of that, and I'll be starting right away while these guys get going with their training."

"Are you sure Bulma?" Yamcha asks. "You know how dangerous it can be looking for those things. I mean I'm sure we'll get a break sometime and then we can help."

"Ugh, you're already doing it again," she says.

"Doing what?" he replies.

"That overprotective thing you always do. I can handle myself. I don't need you to do everything for me, okay?" she says.

"Okay, sheesh," he says. He grumbles out another couple syllables.

"Besides, we have lots of other friends like Puar and Oolong who can help," she adds trying to smooth over his hurt feelings.

Upa looks to his father. Bora nods his head.

"I'd like to go with you then," Upa declares. "I will face any danger!"

"Woah, slow down there tiger," says Bulma. "I won't turn down any help. Get whatever you need and load it into the plane. We'll be leaving soon."

"Right!" says Upa running off immediately.

The sound of an approaching vehicle gets their attention. The groups sees Yajirobe weaving between trees in his hover car through the forested wilderness. The robust samurai pulls up next to them and hops out.

"Okay I'm here. Now where's the food I was promised?" says Yajirobe.

"Did Kami really have to bribe you with food to show up?" asks Bulma. Her eyes narrow in annoyance.

"Hey, you should be thankful I even bothered to show up at all. I don't have to risk my life against these Saiyans you know," Yajirobe says. He crosses his arms in a huff and turns his head away from her. "So what are we supposed to do now?"

"I'm sure Korin will tell you how to find Kami," says Master Roshi. "You boys should meet with him. And since you have already climbed the tower before, I suggest as a training exercise you try to fly to the top this time. It will be a good test of your stamina and ki control."

Yamcha tilts his head up following the column endlessly into the sky unable to see the top.

"We can try it I guess. I mean if we do get tired we can always grab hold of it for a rest," he says.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," says Tien. "If I remember the climb well enough we should make it with energy to spare."

"Yeah, you're probably right," says Yamcha. He pulls one arm across his chest to stretch it before doing the same to the other.

"Hey do you two want a Senzu Bean to restore your energy from flying over here before we take off?" asks Krillin. "We have a few to spare."

"No it's okay," says Chiaotzu. "Flying doesn't drain our stamina much. Besides, those are pretty rare since only Korin can grow them. We should save them if we can."

_Are these guys for real?_ thinks Yamcha. _How can they not be tired?_

Then aloud, "well if you guys want to get a head start, I'll catch up after I talk to Bulma for a bit."

"Talk about what?" she asks.

"Come with me and I'll tell you," he says nodding his head away from the tower.

He and Bulma walk one way and the rest go the other.

"So Master Roshi will you be joining us?" Tien asks as they approach the giant pillar.

"Hmm. I think I'd just be in the way," he says. "I may be too old to learn anymore tricks, and I've probably reached the peak of my power. I don't know how much stronger I can really get. No, I think I'm going to leave this one to you boys. I should pay a visit to my sister. I haven't seen her in a long time. Now may be a good time to catch up with her."

And with that, he was silent. They take the last couple steps and stand before the imposing structure.

"You going to be alright trying to fly that high Krillin?" asks Tien. "I know you're newer to flying than we are."

"I guess we'll see," Krillin says. His face creases with deep contemplation.

"Alright then, here we go," says Tien.

They lift off the ground while Bulma follows behind Yamcha. His head hangs down nearly touching his chest with his chin. It was rare to see him in such a sullen mood.

"Hey, what's on your mind," she asks softly.

He stops but does not face her.

"I just … I feel like I'm in over my head," he says.

"You don't have to do this then. It's not your responsibility," she says.

"I do though, and I'm going to," he says turning around. "It's just that this isn't what I imagined when we were all supposed to have our reunion. All I wanted was to see you again. I wanted this to be a chance to start over after enough time passed for things to settle down. I know it didn't end well between us, but I care about you. I want you to be happy and safe. And I want to be in your life even if it's just as friends. And now I feel like I'm being pulled away."

He stops to look at Bulma for a reaction. She gently shoves his chest causing him to tip back just a little.

"You're really going to leave me after saying that? You jerk," she says. She looks away but cannot hide her smile.

"Yeah, duty calls I guess," says Yamcha. He smiles too and moves passed her for the tower.

"Hey Yamcha," she says.

He turns back. "Ya Bulma."

"Here take this with you and stay in touch," she says throwing him a phone.

"Oh, right. I will. Uh, take care then," he says.

"Ya, you too," she says.

They stare at each other for a moment. Then he starts toward the tower again. Before he can take a full step, Bulma grabs his shoulders and spins him around. She leans against his chest with one foot rising behind her. She kisses him lightly on the cheek.

Yamcha is stunned for a moment afterwards. He shambles back a couple steps with a bewildered look. A happy smile explodes onto his face. Bulma hold her hands behind her and swivels her waist back and forth bashfully.

"A kiss for good luck," she says.

Yamcha nods as butterflies rise through his stomach. He gives a little fistpump and heads for the tower. He breaks into a motivated sprint.

"Woohoo," he howls as he leaps from the ground. He ascends the tower faster than he has ever flown before.

"Train hard!" she calls after him.

Upa sneaks by their romantic scene as discreetly as he can with a large bag on his back made of animal hide. He tiptoes to the plane and opens the side door. He climbs inside to the left where the cargo area is. It is full of weird technological junk, so he drops his bag nearby.

A soft weep jolts him to attention. He sees Chichi curled up as small as she can be in a row of seats. He has not seen her since attending her wedding an odd number of years ago.

"I'm so sorry," he says bending into a bow. "I didn't realize anyone was in here. I'll leave right now."

He steps towards the exit. When his feet hit the grass, another weep escapes her. He looks back inside. He hesitates a moment before re-entering. He takes a seat in the same row but furthest from her. A moment of silence passes.

"I know there's nothing I can say to make you feel better," he finally says. "When I lost my father, many members of my tribe tried to empathize with me by saying they knew how I felt because they have lost loved ones too. But even if the situation is similar, the experience is completely different. No one knew how I felt, just like I couldn't know how they felt just because I lost my dad.

"But Goku was different. He didn't try to tell me he knew my pain because he once lost someone close to him. He took action to try and make it better. It's nice to hear that 'people are there for you when you need them,' but it always sounds a bit self serving, you know? I know they don't mean it that way, but it's like they want to feel important because they helped someone else through a tough time. But they aren't really doing anything at all. They will if you ask them, just not until then.

"Goku wasn't like that. He did everything he could to gather the Dragon Balls and wish my father back. And I'm going to do the same. But in the meantime, I know it's going to hurt while Goku's gone. I'm sorry I can't make that better by telling you I know how you feel."

No response. He stands up to leave.

"Thank you," comes a hushed voice.

Chichi sits up while wiping away tears from her eyes.

"To be honest," she says, "I'm not even sure how I feel yet. I'm still working it all out. So you're right, how could anyone else know?"

She stands up slowly on uneasy legs. Despite their unsteadiness, she feels like she can take on her first obstacle since the tragic experience that befell her. She gingerly steps outside into the sunlight and is filled with a minor sense of accomplishment. It is not much, but she is moving forward.

She attempts some bolder strides as she makes her way over to Korin Tower where Master Roshi and Yajirobe still stand.

"Good to see you up and about," says Master Roshi. "Are you thinking about making the climb?"

"Yes," she says. "I'm not really sure why though. I know one of Goku's martial arts instructors is up there, but I never really wanted to be a martial artist. I only started because my dad wanted me to. And then I kept after it because it was something Goku enjoyed so much.

"Honestly, becoming a mother gave me far more fulfillment than martial arts ever did. I guess right now I'm just looking for some sort of enlightenment about the situation I'm in, and I'm hoping to find it at the top of this tower. You wouldn't happen to have any wise words that might save me the effort do you?"

Master Roshi catches the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

"I wish I did," he says. "I could use a few myself. These are strange times."

"Hey Chichi," calls Bulma. She jogs over to the group. "I wanted to give you this."

She extends a hand holding the Four Star Dragon Ball.

"I know it isn't much, but I thought you should have it," she says. "At least until we make the wish to bring Goku back. Better not to keep them all together anyway. Just to be safe."

"Thank you Bulma. That's very kind," Chichi says taking the orb.

"I remember when I first met Goku in the woods," says Bulma. "And if not for that little jewel, I never would have. Goku is a true friend."

"Best student I ever had," says Master Roshi.

"He's a good man," affirms Yajirobe.

"Thank you all," says Chichi. "Thank you so much."


	11. Training for the Saiyans Begins

Goku stands atop the stone head of a snake monument. Its height exceeds even the tallest point of his spiky hair. He gazes out into an endless sea of golden clouds below the body of the snake. The scaly coils wind innumerably beyond the horizon in gentle, giant strokes. A flat strip runs along the back of the snake creating a path for traversal. Sharp ridges line either side to discourage getting too close to the edge.

"Welcome to Snake Way," says an oni wearing glasses. He stands at the base of the snake head looking up at Goku. "You'll find King Kai at the very end of it if you can complete the journey."

"Woah!" exclaims Goku. "How long is it?"

"No one really knows because no one has ever made it all the way to the end," says the oni. "I do have one warning for you before you go."

Goku turns back to his guide with a quizzical look on his face. He barely notices a quick, ominous reflection of light across the lenses of the ogre's glasses.

"Do not leave the path for any reason," continues the oni. "Those golden clouds are actually an impassable veil that separates Heaven from Hell. Should you fall below it, you will not be able to return. Understood?"

"Got it. Thanks for the tip," Goku says. "Am I free to go then?"

"Yep. Good luck."

Goku takes one last look at the back of King Yemma's palace in the distance. Then he darts down the infinite road across the heavens. Unbeknownst to him, a mysterious being watches his efforts to sprint to the end of the serpentine path through a mirror.

"So this is the Saiyan attempting Snake Way," says the figure gazing into the mirror. "It should be interesting to watch his progress. He seems stronger than the others. I wonder if he'll get farther than them?"

…

Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz leave a conference room in route to their ships to leave for their mission. The debriefing meeting they just finished was the same old routine. They were given all available intel, objectives to complete, and a reminder to keep their scouters in transmission mode at all times. What had not been routine was the topic of Dragon Balls. In all their time spent conquering planets, the Saiyans heard many tall tales and myths from a myriad of cultures. None of them piqued their supreme commander's interest enough to want to thoroughly follow up on them. Vegeta wondered what made this one different. What could a person like Freeza, who has everything, possibly want with a wish.

"A wish granting dragon huh," says Nappa. "So Vegeta, if these things are real, what wish would you make?"

Vegeta does not look back to answer his comrade.

"I'm not interested in chasing a child's fairy tale. I would rather find out more about how our targets are able to manipulate their battle powers."

The practical response deflates Nappa's whimsical musings. Ever the pragmatist, his leader never wants to engage in any of his imaginative pursuits.

"Hey Raditz, how about you?" he calls back over his shoulder.

"Since when do you care what I think?" shoots back Raditz.

"Ah come on. Someone with nothing to his name surely wants to wish for something."

Raditz scowls at his partner for only addressing him when it suits his own interests. If he were being honest, he would wish to be rid of this life of ridicule and servitude. But he cannot say that, so he says the most Saiyan thing he can think of.

"I guess I'd wish for immortality. That way I could fight forever."

"Not bad. Yeah I rather like the sound of that," says Nappa. "If it were me though, I'd probably wish for our homeworld and all its people to come back. I miss commanding a full Saiyan battalion into battle. We could even see your father again, right Vegeta?"

The Prince gives no indication of the remark affecting him. Nappa thought for sure bringing up his heritage and legacy would get him into the conversation. But the silence becomes more suffocating with every second. He decides not to push the idea any further.

…

Alone in a deserted wasteland, a barely four and a half year old Gohan sits exposed and vulnerable in the open. He has not moved from the spot his most recent kidnapper left him in as the daunting task of survival looms overhead. Instead of worrying about his basic biological needs, he yearns to be safe at home with his parents. They would never let any of the horrors this terrible place hides hurt him.

"Don't forget to wear sunscreen," he can almost hear his mom say.

Eventually his throat dries up and his stomach begins growling. He gets to his feet and starts walking in a random direction.

_What would dad do at a time like this?_ he thinks.

He pictures his father's face smiling as he tells him about the time he caught the biggest fish of his life by hand when he was a boy living alone on a mountain. And almost as if the memory conjured up the real thing, the sound of moving water ripples into his ear. He hurries over the crest of a hill and finds a river wider than it is deep.

He allows himself for just a moment to think that Piccolo must have at least dropped him off near a source of water to help him survive.

_Maybe I can do this. Maybe this will be my own adventure like the ones my dad told me about his childhood. And I'll have some for him when I see him again._

…

Elsewhere not far from where he left Gohan, Piccolo begins his training. He can barely sense the tiny ki of the boy. To anyone besides Goku, it would be impossible to differentiate the child's life force from the larger animals roaming the wilderness. But to Piccolo, it is unmistakable after feelings its full ferocity during the battle against the alien invader.

It is hard to imagine the timid aura can erupt into such a terrifying rage. For now, it seems to have calmed down from its initial heightened stress. Should he feel its emotional state spike with fear, he knows he is close enough to rescue Gohan if necessary.

Piccolo starts to groan in agony as his body swells and bulges. A copy of him rips its way out of him like a bug molting its shell. It pulls one arm and one leg free from within their equivalent appendages. Then a second head leans forward out of his own. Piccolo stretches his neck backward to hurry the process. The sound of tissue tearing accompanies the grotesque scene. The right half of the new body steps forward to further the fission between itself and its original. With one last guttural yell from both Piccolos, they fully separate into distinct and complete beings. Both of them breathe deeply from the exhausting operation. After a few more inhales, the second Piccolo finally speaks.

"You must be pretty desperate to bring me out for training," the identical replica says.

"Can you think of a better training partner than myself?" chuckles the original.

"I suppose you're right," says the other Piccolo. "Even divided this way, we are still probably stronger than anyone else on the planet."

"Yeah but not for long with the Saiyans coming," says Piccolo.

"Does that really matter? Goku's dead. Your revenge has been carried out. Why bother training at all?"

"He'll be back soon enough. And probably a lot stronger too. Once we deal with the Saiyans, I'll challenge him to a rematch and kill him for good myself."

"Challenge him to a rematch?" echoes the clone. "Kill him yourself? Why does it matter if you kill him or not as long as he's dead. You're purpose is to avenge the Demon King's death. Honestly, you should be stopping his friends from wishing him back to life."

"I'm not just my father's tool!" shouts Piccolo. "I'm going to kill Goku on my own terms damn it!"

"Oh, is that a twinge of pride from having lost to him in the tournament?" mocks the copy. "It almost sounds like you've developed a little respect for Goku."

"Enough talking. It's time to train!"

Piccolo lunges forward to begin a sparring match.

"Whatever you say," quips the clone knowingly and readying himself for battle.

The two Piccolos tear apart the landscape with ki blasts and colliding melee attacks. They move so fast, a normal human would mistake the mild cataclysm they induce for a mere natural disaster. Though they take periodic breaks, the scrimmage lasts until dusk.

"Alright, that's enough for today," calls Piccolo.

"Sure, better check on the brat and make sure it's okay," says the copy with a hint of sarcasm. "I'd bet he's hiding under a rock somewhere and calling for his mommy. Heh heh."

They walk towards one another as one would approach a reflection in a mirror. Just as they are about to bump together, they pass into each other. For a brief moment there is a confusion of fluttering caps and swaying limbs, but ultimately one being emerges out of the clutter.

He floats away from the dirt and grit below him until he is high enough Gohan will not easily notice him. He then glides casually to where he senses the boy's presence unable to go much faster after the exhausting exercise. Half expecting his counterpart to be right, a bit of astonishment takes hold of him when he looks upon all that Gohan has done on his first day.

An extremely basic shelter consisting of woven together sticks and mud leans up against a tree by the riverbank.

_Heh, that thing'll never make it through the first storm it sees,_ Piccolo thinks. _Oh well, he'll learn that soon enough like I did._

His eyes search for Gohan and spot him walking along the shore of the river.

_So you found water, but how will you carry it when you go searching for food?_

Gohan eventually stops before a tree with vines twirling around its trunk all the way up to its branches. Hanging from these vines are hourglass shaped gourds. Piccolo watches the boy look from the fruiting bodies to the water and back. He sees the child's face light up with realization.

Gohan grabs the lowest hanging gourd and finds it harder to pull off than he expected. He tries again with both hands and pushes off the trunk with one foot. He gives it one big yank. Nothing. He gives it one more with even greater force. Snap! It pops off, and he tumbles backwards onto his butt.

Piccolo cannot help but smile at the embarrassing yet endearing incident. Gohan picks himself up, rubs his butt, and checks his tail for injury. Then he is quickly tugging on another gourd. After getting three more, he looks around himself. Seeing something he likes, he trots over to a large rock with uneven contours.

Gohan feels along its surface for a jagged point. Upon finding one, he holds a gourd over it. He tries to puncture the very top of the seed pod by slamming it down from above his head. The shell is too tough for him to do it on his own. He picks up a rock and tries to use it like a hammer by smacking it into the bottom of the gourd. A few good whacks later, he cracks a big enough hole into it for the seeds to fit through. He does this for the remaining three as well.

With a small stick, he begins scraping around inside each of them to hollow out the stringy innards. Then he is off to the shallowest part of the river to fill them up. After doing so, he presses two gourds in each arm against his chest. He walks to his shelter careful not to spill a drop.

A touch of admiration smolders inside Piccolo as he watches the whole process. He knows the kid could have easily given up at any point, but he kept going and solving problems. He grabs hold of an identical gourd at his hip. He plucks a cork from the top of it and raises the container to his lips. After a few mouthfuls, he returns it to his side. Then he flies off to rest for the night.


	12. Fly High, Palace in the Sky

The sun has nearly set before Bulma lands her plane for the final time this fateful day. Red and orange dwindle down behind the cityscape of her home at Capsule Corporation headquarters. Darkness chases away the last of the fading light reaching between the skyscrapers and down the streets of West City. She, Puar, Oolong, Ox King and Upa clamber out of the aircraft after the emotionally draining events. Her father Dr. Brief stands outside the building awaiting their arrival. With each tired step, she makes her way to him before finally collapsing into his embrace and sobbing.

"It's going to be okay sweetie," he says calmingly behind a cigarette. "You've done quite enough for one day. Shuttling everyone around and being the bearer of such awful news would take its toll on anyone."

"No. Not yet," Bulma says drying her eyes. "Everyone is ready to get started searching for the Dragon Balls, and I told them I'd have the locations ready by the end of the day. I still need to pinpoint them before I do anything else."

"I know you feel the need to take on all this responsibility, but taking the rest of the night off after the day you've had won't hurt anything," says her father.

"He's one of my best friends, dad. And I promised Chichi … and I…"

Bulma clasps her mouth with her hand to suppress another sob. Puar nestles against her shoulder with a comforting warmth.

"They can all wait until tomorrow morning," reassures the head of Capsule Corporation. "Isn't that right everyone?"

Those present all murmur their consent.

"You see, they need a break just like you do. Now please, come inside. Your mother has prepared a nice meal for everyone. And don't worry about all the alien technology you brought with you. I'll have someone move it to our lab. It can wait until tomorrow too."

Having no will left to argue with her father, Bulma does as he asks. Inside the residence, her mother gives her further sympathies and hugs before they all sit down to a late dinner. With the formality of eating a family meal out of the way, during which no one said a word, Bulma retreats to her room. She takes a hot shower before trying to fall asleep. Her mind races and her body fidgets as the minutes drag slowly by.

When nearly a full restless hour has passed, she gets up and exchanges pajamas for lab clothes. She heads for the research and development workshop where the spaceship parts are being stored. She finds every piece has been meticulously sorted and labeled, including some scribbled notes. She spots her father observing the vastness of space with his high powered telescope.

"I thought you said the alien tech could wait until tomorrow," Bulma says.

"Oh you know I couldn't help myself," says Dr. Brief pulling back from the viewer of the telescope. "It's fascinating stuff, truly. I can't wait to dig into it in earnest to see how it all ticks."

"Really? Then why are you using the telescope when you could be tinkering away with all these new toys?" asks Bulma.

"Well, I've been following a strange astronomical phenomenon I've never seen before and for which there is no record of that I can find," he explains. "Here, come take a look."

He ushers his daughter over to gaze through the many magnifying lenses. She finds a fiendishly red planet staring back at her with craters forming an eerie pair of eyes and moaning mouth.

"What the hell is that thing?" she cries out.

"I'm not sure," says her father. "But it seems to be moving in a way no gravitational field would normally allow for."

"Where's it going?" Bulma asks finally looking back at her father.

"Well, it seems to be headed for Earth."

They share a quiet moment of apprehension under the astrological omen.

…

The sun set about the time Chichi finally caught sight of the top of Korin Tower. A few hours later, she was just below its summit. A circular structure with the diameter of a single roomed house no amount of Earthly architecture could explain sat atop the stone column which juts into the lower atmosphere of the planet. Four large holes in its base set to each cardinal direction seem to be the only entrance. Not long before, Yajirobe disappeared into one of them. With the cool night winds chilling her sweat soaked clothes and her brow glistening in the moonlight, she pulls herself through one of these openings.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again Yajirobe," Chichi could hear a voice from above as she enters the strange dwelling. "You don't seem like the type to face mortal danger."

Chichi finds herself in a living space with a bed and a bathtub along with several clay pots lining the continuous rounded wall. She heads over to the only opening meant to be walked through. It takes her to a set of stairs along the outside of the building. She pushes off the minimal safety railing with one arm to keep the opposite shoulder pressed against the solid wall as she climbs the last of the way to her destination.

At the top, the railing extends to encircle a single open expanse comprising the top level of the oval structure. A few pillars around the perimeter separate the roof from the floor leaving large, curved rectangular gaps. Vines wrap themselves around the thin railings barricading off the edge with plentiful seed pods like peas growing from them.

To her surprise, she sees Yajirobe standing next to a floating white cat holding a wooden walking stick taller than its height. What the cat needs that for when it could levitate she did not know. Both of them look back at her.

"There's the other one I sensed climbing my tower," says the cat in a husky male voice.

Chichi's jaw drops a little in surprise.

"Good evening my lady," speaks the cat again. "My name is Korin. And who might you be?"

Chichi fails to say anything.

"This is Chichi," says Yajirobe. "Goku's wife."

"I see," says Korin. "In that case, I have something for you. Hang on a moment while I fetch it."

Korin floats by her and down the stairs. Chichi flinches back as he passes like he might attack her.

"Don't worry about him," says Yajirobe. "Korin is a martial arts master not some demon cat."

"You know," calls Korin's voice from below along with the sound of rummaging, "I wasn't expecting company until tomorrow, so pardon me if my dwelling isn't ready to accommodate guests yet. Honestly, you kids seem to be climbing my tower faster and faster every time."

The rummaging stops, and Korin appears at the top of the stairs soon after.

"Here you are my lady," Korin says holding out one arm.

In it is a reddish orange staff inside a brown sheath with woven strings on each end to tie it around the carrier's waist or back.

"Goku's Power Pole," Chichi whispers. "What's it doing here?"

Chichi takes hold of it and looks at it lovingly.

"Oh it's been here for quite a few years now," says Korin. "Goku used it to reach Kami who lives high up above here. Unless you have his express permission to go to his temple above the clouds, you cannot get there without using this. It acts as a kind of key you might say."

"Are you saying we're going to use that thing to go see Kami?" asks Yajirobe.

"Possibly," answers Korin. "For now though, I'm going to train the two of you in a few necessary skills you'll need going forward. We'll see how far you progress. Until then, make yourselves comfortable downstairs and have a well deserved slumber. We'll begin in the morning. Oh, and don't eat any of my Senzu Beans without asking me first, Yajirobe."

…

Yamcha lags behind the group ascending to the supposed place Kami lives above the clouds overlooking the Earth. They long since left Korin's residence behind. The flight to that point alone left him exhausted even though the others looked ready to go from there. If not for the insistence from Korin that they all have a Senzu Bean before continuing on, he would have had to shamefully admit he would need to rest and leave the next morning. But now he feels like they far surpassed the distance to the top of the tower and still no structure of any kind presented itself.

If they are really getting closer to something, it should at least be visible by now, right? As far as Yamcha knew, none of the others had flown this high before, and he certainly had not. With nothing to orient himself against, he could not be sure he is even flying in a straight line. He just keeps following them hoping they have not veered off course leading them towards nothing at all. Otherwise, they would simply run out of ki and fall to their deaths.

The aura around his body flickers and fades oscillating intensity with the effort to maintain it. His flight pattern wavers left and right in wider and wider swerves as his mind loses the focus to control his ki properly. The fear of actually dropping out of the sky thickens in his stomach like a weight trying to slow him down. The urge to call out for help wells inside his lungs.

_If I need them to carry me the rest of the way, would they even be able to make it with me as dead weight? _he thinks. _And when did Krillin get so good at flying? Tien and Chiaotzu sure since they have been doing it so long. But when did Krillin find the time to practice and get so much better at it than I am?_

He tries desperately to brush away these unnecessary thoughts from further distracting his already slipping concentration.

A large dark could moves across the sky above them despite them rising through miles of clear skies for the better part of an hour. This malignant obstruction seems to have materialized out of nowhere. Tien, Chiaotzu, and Krillin would have just flown around this one like any of the others they crossed paths with on the way, but it is simply too big to avoid. They plunge straight into it as he had done for every cloud before in fear of wasting too much ki taking even a slightly elongated route.

He watches as it swallows his friends one by one before being engulfed himself. The mist dampens his gi once again. The familiar cold of the high altitude vapor chills him into a series of shivers. The water droplets mix with the sweat on his face and body raising his vigilance. However, the extra alertness only makes him more painfully aware of the abyss around him. He cannot even see his friends ahead of him through the density of the fog. As the gray scenery goes on and on, the suffocating void preys on his insecurities. And the further into it he flies, the greater the urge to scream for help grows.

_Are my friends even there anymore? Have they left me behind? Would they be able to hear me if I called out? Could they catch me if I start to fall?_

He breaks through the top of the overcast. The sunshine assaults his eyes. But through the bright blue, he sees an object ahead of him. As his vision clears, the shape becomes more refined. It is an inverted dome he could not see the top of because of the curvature. He cares not that it suddenly appeared where nothing had been before the cloud. He only cares that he will be able to land soon, if he can make it.

The hemisphere is layered with different colored stripes. His friends skirt up the side of it skimming along the rounded surface. Yamcha spots a ladder curving from the point at the bottom all that way up to the flat top. With his last bit of strength, he pushes himself to reach it.

His arms and legs start making swimming motions in hopes of propelling himself the last of the way there. His whole body hurts like he spent all day in the gym. He stretches out his right arm straining it nearly out of its socket reaching for the bottom cylindrical rung. The tips of his fingers barely bump the metal. And then his ki finally gives out allowing gravity to take back hold of his body.

His palm finds the rung and his hand instinctively clenches down. He hangs over the endless sky to catch his breath. He cannot tell how far he has come because everything is so small, but he marvels at the accomplishment just the same.

When his arm starts to hurt from holding his weight, he swings his other arm up to grab the ladder. At first he moves as if on monkey bars before the rails and rungs start to curve up the side. He passes by the red colored cap of the structure's bottom to get far enough up where his legs can actually stop dangling in the open air. He begins climbing normally as the background changes to a nice blue. Then he passes a quick yellow, a flash of red, and then back to yellow. He finds thin, oval windows situated horizontally at this layer before reaching the last painted section. It is a light red with a darker zigzagging red line forming a pattern of triangles. He gets to the top and rolls over the edge lying exhausted on his back on a cool white tile floor.

When the magnitude of what he accomplished finally feels real to him, he sits up and looks around. Evergreen trees line the perimeter of the circular plane in four separate and evenly spaced beds of soil. Across from the ladder are two parallel rows of palm trees creating a short path to the temple that stands off center towards the back of the floating platform.

Kami stands before the building with his friends and an unknown black man in a turban. Yamcha quickly rises to his feet realizing they are waiting on him. All of his muscles twitch from the exertion of the previous endeavor. His limbs shake as he walks to the group. He hides this with exaggerated stretching by twisting at the hips and rolling his arms in their sockets.

"Thank you all for arriving so promptly," says Kami before Yamcha can finish joining up with the group.

Kami points a finger at Yamcha's feet as he stops next to everyone else. A bright golden light shoots out of its tip. Neatly folded clothes start to appear before him one piece at a time as a beam of energy lingers in the air. When the process finishes, he does the same for Krillin, Tien, and Chiaotzu.

"Put these on please," says Kami. "They are weighted clothes much like the ones Goku wore during the last tournament you participated in. You are expected to wear these at all times unless they are being washed."

The four of them begin arranging their garments as necessary to accommodate the ones provided by the Guardian. They consisted of a shirt, wristbands, boots, and a new accessory in the form of a sash for their waist. Kami continues speaking while they put on the clothes.

"To move in these outfits, you will have to keep your ki in use at all times," he says. "As martial artists, I know you are all accomplished ki users. However, as my training of Goku revealed, there are many intricate inner workings you may not be familiar with. Starting with the fundamentals, are you aware there are three components that comprise ki?"

Kami pauses for a moment as he lets this enlightening fact settle on his proteges. They stop wrestling with the weighted clothes to stare inquisitively at their instructor.

Kami goes on. "Many martial artists are unable to differentiate these three aspects and end up exercising one more than the others mistaking it as ki in its entirety. A person can only increase their ki to a fraction of its potential by training just one area. These components must be trained congruently to maximize its growth. I imagine the four of you have experienced a leveling off of improvement over these past few years since the Twenty-Third World Martial Arts Tournament. And I suspect the reason for this is as I have explained."

"So we aren't getting any stronger because of significant diminishing returns each attribute provides by itself?" asks Krillin.

Kami nods.

"Then what are these different parts?" asks Tien as he finishes putting on his training garments. The others do the same.

Yamcha could not be sure, but there seems to be more weight to these clothes than the ones he held when Goku took them off during his match against Tien. Despite their burdening load, they are surprisingly comfortable without chafing on his skin.

"The three parts are genki, shoki, and yuki," says Kami. "Genki is the physical energy of the body. It is built upon the obvious like health and strength, but also the more subtle like instinct and reflexes trained into muscle memory. It is your body's ability to act without thinking from constant conditioning through routine and habit.

"Shoki is the mental energy of the mind. It deals with focus and discipline as well as logic and reason. It allows you to remain calm during stressful situations by removing all unnecessary thoughts distracting you from what needs to be done in the moment.

"And yuki is your fighting spirit and courage to face any challenge life offers. It is your thoughts and feelings and your resolve to act transparently by them. Taking an action that does not align with your true emotions will create anxieties that reduce the results of that action. Fear of consequence is a natural and inherent part of life, but you must find the bravery to act in spite of it if you wish to master yuki.

"Allow me to give these implications some context through something you are all familiar with, a punch," Kami says. "Genki is the stamina, strength, and technique to throw as many punches as necessary as effectively as you can. Shoki involves the strategy of when and where to throw a punch which comes from patience and a clear mind. Yuki is the wholehearted belief that your punch is justified, and the courage to act on that belief even when the outcome may be unfavorable. If any doubt about your conviction or fear of repercussion creeps in, your strike will falter."

"I see," says Chiaotzu. "So will you be able to help us identify which areas we are lacking in?"

"That is my intent, yes," says Kami. "In the interest of time, I will begin now. Pardon any bluntness. For you Chiaotzu, it's your genki that needs the most improvement. You rely mostly on your mental powers and have neglected your physical training.

"Yamcha, you do not utilize your shoki enough and try to overcompensate with genki. While it's good to let your reflexes take over to free up mental space, you fail to capitalize on the freedom of thought afforded by your strong instinct.

"Krillin, I sense a deep fear within you that strangles your yuki. This is nothing to be ashamed of as being afraid is normal and healthy. But too much fear is crippling. If you cannot find the courage to act regardless of this fear, then there is no place for you on the battlefield against the Saiyans. You would simply be a greater hindrance than an asset.

"And Tien. Of the four of you, your genki, shoki, and yuki are in the most balance. However, you do not excel in any particular area. You will have to work hard to push through these limiting barriers."

The four trainees just nod in understanding accepting what the Guardian says at face value.

"For the rest of today," Kami goes on, "my attendant Mr. Popo will put you through some physical and mental exercises to work on your genki and shoki. Nothing you haven't done before I'm sure, sparring and meditations and the like. As for yuki, we have special methods of testing and strengthening your bravery. But that is for a later time. Best of luck gentlemen."

Krillin gulps as Kami leaves them with the cryptic message.

"What do you think he meant by 'special methods?'" asks Krillin whispering to Yamcha.

Yamcha just shrugs his shoulders and moves closer to Mr. Popo for instructions. The four friends make use of the remaining daylight to train. The night and sleep come quickly after the strenuous journey up to their new temporary residence sapped them of time and stamina.

When the sun has long since set, and the warriors lie asleep where they collapsed in fatigue, Kami stands at the edge of his domain looking down upon the world he protects. Mr. Popo has even finished his caretaking chores for the evening. Kami rarely stays up that late, especially as he has aged.

"Kami?" says Mr. Popo walking up to him. "Is something troubling you?"

Kami stares in thought for a moment before answering.

"Yes Mr. Popo, I'm afraid something is. I sense a darkness approaching our planet."

"Oh no! It couldn't be the Saiyans already could it?" asks the groundskeeper. His eyes are wide with fear.

"I almost wish it were my friend," Kami says. "But this is a different evil our planet may have to face. One much older and familiar to us both."

"You don't mean … it couldn't possibly be…" Mr. Popo trails off already knowing the answer.

"Yes. Mr. Popo. It is."

Kami pauses.

"Mr. Popo?"

"Yes Kami?"

"Do me a favor. Don't tell the others of this. They have enough to worry about as it is."

"Do you think that wise?"

"For now yes. I'll have to see how things develop in the near future. Besides, this is not their fight, and I don't wish to put their lives in any more danger than they already are. I'll see to this matter myself."

"Ye-yes Kami, as you wish."

Mr. Popo stands there silently as the Guardian continues to gaze upon the Earth with unfocused eyes and many contemplations. Above them a red star twinkles in the night sky.


	13. Keep Running Goku, Earth Needs You

Goku's journey continues with the golden clouds expanding ever outward and the path before him winding ever onward into the distance. Every step, every moment spent on this road, takes him farther from home, but he does not know if each one is actually bringing him closer to saving it. Distance and time fuse indistinguishably together in his limbo reality between Heaven and Hell.

And just like the scenery, every day perfectly mirrors the one before it. Alternating between running until exhaustion and walking to rest before finally collapsing into a sleep. Then waking up to repeat the same process over and over again. The only difference between each day is his panting breaths inhaling deeper and his throbbing legs feeling heavier.

While his body aches against the physicality, his mind struggles with detracting negativity. When everything was new, fun thoughts like whether or not the golden veil of clouds is a giant Flying Nimbus danced through his head. But now his mind is plagued with worry and doubt. How long had he been traveling? How far had he gotten? How much longer, how much farther? Could his body endure the distance? Would his mind conquer the time?

The physical tiredness and mental weariness are now infecting one another compounding each other's toxicity. They work together against him with only his courage to face them in order to save his family and friends keeping him going. He wants to, practically needs to, believe this is some kind of training. Surely the taxing exercise and maddening thoughts are a test of his body's stamina and mind's fortitude. But between the weighted clothes Kami brought him to Other World in and King Kai's endless Snake Way, things were starting to feel like some big cosmic joke between the deities.

His foot steps over the edge of the divine road sending his leg down the rough, scaly side of the structure. With thoughts racing out of their cycling torture, his attention fixates on the danger of falling off his only path to success. He squeezes his legs together which are now doing a side split around the curvature of the snake. His torso is nearly perpendicular to the body of the behemoth.

He presses his arms and chest against the surface to create as much friction as possible to slow his slide. Miraculously he comes to a stop. Slowly, he slithers his arms up the scraping scales without breaking contact with the stone. His hands find the lip at the top, and he pulls himself up. Gasping for air on his knees, he takes a moment to chastise himself with a couple frustrated punches to his thighs.

"How could I be so stupid?" he says through gritted teeth and swelling cheeks. "I can't afford to zone out like that."

He rises to his feet and starts again still unaware that his efforts are being observed. Gathered in front of a mirror, three humanoid figures wearing similar robes watch the Saiyan as one would watch a pet hamster running in a wheel.

"You see West Kai. I told you I had a good feeling about this one," says the tallest of them in a deep voice. The sunglasses he is wearing look extra dark against his pink skin. "I know a determined soul when I see one."

"More like simple minded," says the figure being addressed. He is the shortest of the three. The purple skin of his face rumples into a frown. "He's just too stupid to give up. And I'm not going to waste anymore of my time on such a pitiful creature."

The monocle wearing member turns away from the mirror to leave.

"Either way," says the first, "a bet's a bet. It's been three weeks since he started. So pay up."

"I believe my exact words were 'he won't last more than three weeks.' Right South Kai? So that means he has one day left." says West Kai stopping to look over his shoulder.

"Come on dear boy," says South Kai. "Don't be a sore loser."

The third member of their groups, and only female, steps in.

"Honestly, I can't believe you boys are betting on the poor man," she says. Her skin is a pale yellow and she wears sunglasses as well. "He is trying so desperately to save his home from destruction and you two are trying to make a quick buck at his expense."

"I don't care what his reason is East Kai," shouts her western counterpart looking up at her. "He has no business being among the heavenly deities. Why do you think North Kai has that ridiculous Snake Way in the first place? It's to keep out riffraff like that Saiyan."

"Relax," says East Kai. "You and I both know he won't make it passed the Trial of Temptation anyway. No one ever does. So there's no real harm in letting him try at least is there?"

"Hey, uh, East Kai," says South Kai. "I'd be willing to wager double what old Westy here owes me on this guy passing the Trial of Temptation. What do you say to that?"

"What do you take me for?" she exclaims. "I'm a principled woman who would never take advantage of someone else's unfortunate circumstances."

She crosses her arms defiantly. South Kai pats a coin purse at his side. The sound of jingling coins rings out several times.

"Then again," East Kai reconsiders. "If he is going to inevitably fail anyway, it would be unwise not to capitalize on such an opportunity. Yes the outcome is certain. No one can resist a temptation like that, and I could use an expensive spa day. You're on South Kai."

"Excellent," he says with just a smile.

"Forget it," says West Kai. "He won't even make it to the trial."

The midget waddles over to the mirror and taps it with his finger. Ripples move outward across the glass from where he touched it.

"Just what are you playing at?" demands East Kai.

"Oh something much more entertaining than a bet," says West Kai.

He gives a sinister glare through his monocle at the malformed image of Goku running in the mirror's still rippling surface.

…

Gohan awakes in a place he does not remember falling asleep. He shoots up to a sitting position with his head frantically surveying the surroundings. A sharp pain stabs at his palms. He looks them over after verifying there is no immediate danger. Blisters and small gashes disfigure the soft fleshy skin of his hands and fingers. His white undershirt is in tatters while the nice jacket he started in has long since been destroyed. His green dress pants are in no better shape.

He finds himself on a cliff jutting out of a mountainous structure. He crawls slowly to its edge despite the pain in his palms with the fear of falling overcoming it. A quick peek is all he needs to see that he is at a dangerous height. He slips away as fast as is safe and sits with his back against the mountainside. He gazes up and sees it is about the same distance to the top as it probably would be to the ground.

He starts to get dizzy looking up so high and closes his eyes. He squeezes them tightly trying to force the memory of how he got up here into view. He remembers gathering food, berries from a tree. Then the feeling of fear and sense of running for his life cloud the rest of the recollection. Clearly something scared him to the point of blacking out, but how did he get on a cliff this high?

_Because unbeknownst to you, you have a fearsome hidden power,_ Piccolo's words echo forth in his mind. _You're the one who defeated the alien that kidnapped you._

_Could I really have an inner strength I don't know about? _Gohan thinks._ I did blackout when I saw the alien attacking my mom. And then the next thing I knew, he was lying on the ground. My dad always talks about training his ki and says I can do it to. Maybe I do have a hidden power that brought me all the way up here._

He opens his eyes at the realization.

"But how much force would it take to get up here?" he thinks aloud. "If I weigh about forty pounds and need enough acceleration to work against gravity and come up with an estimated distance from the ground…"

He trails off as he starts to puzzle out the math. He uses a fingernail to etch notes into the dirt of the cliff.

"And assuming ki works anything like electricity which needs a current and pressure to do work. Then I should be able to figure out how much power I must output to make it up here."

Gohan stands up and looks down at his equations. He checks the math one more time in his head. With no safe way to climb up or down, there is nothing else to do but practice using ki. He takes a martial arts stance his father taught him. He works his body through a familiar routine while visualizing his life force flowing through him as a series of scientific formulas from the textbooks his mom wants him to study.

…

Piccolo waits. His beady eyes dart around in their sockets searching for something in the dwindling daylight. The index and middle fingers of his right hand are pressed against the center of his forehead. He does not even notice their sharp nails digging into his skin.

"Where are you?" he whispers.

His chest heaves for air. Injuries mark his body, most of them leaking a purple liquid.

"There!" he shouts.

He turns to face a ki he senses spring into existence and rapidly grow in strength. He begins charging power in the fingertips on his forehead. An orange electric aura sparks from the focal point. A steady growl rises in pitch as he pumps ki as quickly as he can into the tiny area. It threatens to burst outward from the small, imaginary container he mentally tries to hold the pressure in.

As he does, his doppelganger charges an orange sphere crackling with energy between its palms in front of its chest. Piccolo feels his adversary's power peak meaning the attack was about to fire. The double shoves its arms forward launching the orb as big as its torso.

The ki ball rushes towards Piccolo, but his own attack is not ready yet. He braces for failure once again without backing down. He screams in agony trying to funnel the last of his strength into the technique. Just a second more and his fingers feel heavy with an invisible mass and tingling sensation. He laughs hysterically and thrusts his right arm straight ahead. The nails of his two extended fingers practically scratch the surface of the incoming energy sphere as he lets loose his beam.

"Makankosappo!" he shouts.

An orange light with a violet tint smashes against the crackling orb spraying over its rounded exterior. The impact pushes Piccolo backward with his feet sliding across the ground and his arm buckling at the elbow. He digs in his heels and pushes from the shoulder.

The beam from his fingers slows down the ball and even sinks a minor depression into its surface. Piccolo inhales deeply before uttering a final expulsion of strained air. A second beam coiling around the first spirals forth.

It makes contact with the target drilling straight into it. Its rapid twisting tears through the opposing attack blowing out the back of it. Piccolo's clone is taken by surprise at the first successful attempt and barely dodges the piercing laser barreling at him. It strikes a mountain miles in the distance setting off an explosion. A cloud of smoke and debris billows up from a newly formed crater atop the rocky formation.

"Wow, it's even more powerful than we had hoped," says the doppelganger. It smiles rawly at the site of destruction. "Still needs some work though. Takes too much time to prepare the ki for it. Not to mention the huge drain on our reserves."

"Well between me working on ki sensing and channeling my active ki," responds Piccolo, "and you practicing ki suppression and drawing it out quickly from it's passive state, I'd say we've improved substantially from where the technique was."

"I suppose," says the double. "But what irony it is to nearly perfect your trump card for killing Goku to protect the world you once intended to take over. What would our dear father think of that I wonder?"

"Enough prattling about such useless trifle," says Piccolo. "The Demon King is dead. He had his chance. Now it's my turn, and I'll do things my way. Besides, there won't be a planet to take over if it's destroyed."

"Whatever you say. You're in charge," mocks the copy.

"Good, now let's go check on the boy," Piccolo says assertively.

The two merge together and fly off. Piccolo searches for Gohan which is becoming slightly easier as the child's ki signature has increased since he first brought him here, even if only a little. However, he does not expect to find Gohan on a cliffside the boy could not have possibly climbed on his own. He sees the child huddled in a fetal position against the cold of the coming evening.

_Oh great, now he's stuck on a mountain?_ Piccolo fumes to himself. _He has no food or water and no way down. Do I really have to save his worthless life? Maybe I was wrong believing he could be trained into a warrior._

While Piccolo deliberates over what to do, Gohan stands up from his defeated position. He yawns and stretches for a moment. Then he forms his body into a martial arts pose. As the kid dances rhythmically through various stances gracefully transitioning from one to the next, Piccolo feels a slight rise in his power level with every held position. At the end of the routine, Gohan's ki returns to its barely detectable level. The boy curls up once more for the night and does not stir again.

"Well, well. You have some potential after all," says Piccolo.

The next morning, Gohan opens his eyes to see something strange. Three deep red apples are sitting on his cliffside. He looks around for a fruit tree he might have missed, but there is no sign of one. He eagerly picks one up and bites into it.

"Yeck!"

He nearly spits out the mouthful of sour food. He puckers hard to avoid wasting any of the valuable juices knowing he needs the hydration. It is not easy, but he stomachs the rest of it and the other two. For a moment a nauseous lump rises up his esophagus but eventually settles.

Piccolo watches from afar to see what Gohan will do since he cannot survive for very long on a few apples. He starts from his position adrift in the air as the boy examines the rockface for hand and footholds.

"Eh, he's not going to try and climb to the top is he?" says Piccolo. He hovers closer to the unfolding event.

Gohan begins moving slowly upward one hand and foot at a time. When it does not appear like the top is getting any closer, he decides to look over his shoulder to check his progress not believing he could have made it that far yet. To his surprise, he already reached a lethal falling height back to the platform he left. Not that it matters anymore since his uneven climbing caused him to drift further off course than he realized. The original cliff he started from was not even beneath him now.

_This was a bad idea. How could I have been so stupid?_ he reprimands himself.

Gohan freezes in place, and a cold wind gusts across the mountainside. What should he do now? His body feels tired and sore from having made it practically nowhere. There is no way he can climb to the top. He decides to head back to the ledge he began on and reaches out a leg for a foothold.

"Not there you idiot," yells Piccolo hastily flying forward.

But Gohan does not hear the warning and puts his weight on a questionable rock. It crumbles immediately. Gohan feels a queasy sensation as his body drops. He swings wildly over open air with just his right hand holding on. Adrenaline pumps into his veins as his fight or flight response fills him with an exhilarating anxiety.

_I'm gonna' die. I'm gonna' die._

"I'M GOING TO DIE!"

His vision begins to blacken as a dark red sets in. For a moment he wants to give in to the blackness. He could just let the alluring ease take him. His left hand scrambles reflexively to get a grip on something, anything. His fingers find a crevice and latch on tight.

Hope renews in his mind joining alongside his survival instinct. Together they push back the temptation of fear and doubt. A power he does not recognize takes control of his body. His consciousness steps back in his mind leaving him to watch himself through his own eyes like windows to the outside. He is now merely a spectator.

His legs push off the rocky face lifting him up to a thin ledge. His hands leapfrog him over the top of it so his legs can jump again. In this manner, his body scales the rest of the cliffside until he reaches the top. The whole time his mind experiences the turbulence of the trip as if he rides in some kind of vehicle.

His breathing is the first thing he becomes aware of returning to his command. Air rushes in and out of his lungs at a steady pace. He tests his fingers by rolling them in and out of his palms. Finally, he looks over his whole body verifying it belongs to him once again.

Having witnessed enough, Piccolo flies off. A strange unease dissipates from his gut as he leaves. One he cannot determine the source of.

"Heh … heh," Gohan laughs between breaths not sure what to make of the phenomenon he just experienced.

He checks out the mountaintop. It is bigger than the ledge he used to be on but not much bigger than the square footage of his home.

"I guess I'm stuck _here_ now," he says. "Huh, I thought there'd be an apple tree up here."


	14. Yamcha Trains and Bulma Invents

Kami watches as Krillin moves at high speed trying to find an opening in Tien's defense. He strikes from a new angle with every attack never repeating the same maneuver. A punch from the front, then a knee to the back. A chop from above, then a sweep down below.

All three of Tien's eyes constantly shift scanning the immediate area for where his opponent might appear next. The third eye on his forehead does not work in unison with the pair below. It always looks in the opposite direction to check the blind spots left by the other two. He blocks every attempted hit.

"That's enough," says Kami stopping the session. "Well done Krillin, you're movement speed has increased considerably over the past few weeks.

"And Tien, you too have made excellent progress towards your own personal goal of tracking fast enemies."

"Thank you, Kami," Tien says. "Ever since Goku outsped me after training with you, I've wanted to catch up to him. But I couldn't in terms of pure speed."

"Indeed," says Kami. "There is usually more than one way to counter the ability of someone else without trying to match or exceed them in that area. Recognizing what you can and cannot do is important for maximizing your own strengthens and minimizing your weaknesses in battle. With that in mind, Krillin."

The short warrior looks up from his hunched over position gasping for air.

"What have you learned while pursuing your requested self improvement?" Kami asks.

"Well," says Krillin with a deep breath every couple of words. "Moving really fast … requires a lot … of stamina … and Tien … hasn't spent very much … stopping my attacks."

"Precisely, which means the next step in your training for this goal will be to work on your endurance," says his instructor. "I'd also like to warn you now, that using a high speed tactic to overwhelm your enemy will always put you at risk of burning out before your opponent does. If you opt for this course of action, you will need to end the battle quickly. Now both of you take a break. We'll resume soon."

And with that, Kami walks over to the edge of his palace in the sky.

"So Krillin, how's that Taiyoken coming along," Tien asks.

"I've been practicing what you said, projecting my ki as light instead of force," says Krillin breathing a little lighter now. "But it's hard you know. I've never manipulated it that way before."

"It's definitely a little different, but if anyone can learn how to change the emission of their ki, it's you. You've always shown great aptitude for that kind of thing."

"Thanks Tien," says Krillin, "for taking the time to teach me. I'll let you know when I make more progress."

"Sure, but you know, I never asked why you wanted to learn it."

Krillin thinks for a moment.

"It just seems like a handy technique is all. Uh, good utility, you know? I've seen how much of an opening blinding your opponent gives from when you and Goku used it and thought that would be useful to do at some point."

"Of course," says Tien giving a smile.

Krillin saunters off while Tien watches after him.

Mr. Popo supervises another training session between Yamcha and Chiaotzu. The small, pale fighter who never seems to age runs laboriously along the ground in his weighted clothes. The scar-faced man chases after him struggling just as much to stay aloft a couple feet above the tiled floor in his heavy garments. Chiaotzu darts and dashes with slow starts and clumsy stops while Yamcha swerves about in the air with unresponsive turns to keep up.

Every time he reaches out to snag the little psychic, the childlike twenty year old takes off in a new direction leaving him swinging out in a wide turn to change his own course. The tantalizing prospect of almost actually catching his quarry who needs more and more time to build up momentum after every switch sends him speeding after it out of each banking turn. And each time he is about to grab the meek target, Chiaotzu changes directions again leading to the whole process starting over.

Mr. Popo watches this for some time until both his trainees begin to show signs of fatigue. It is clear to him that if given enough time, Yamcha would outlast Chiaotzu and catch him. Since that is not the point of the exercise, he always stops them before that point. But the sessions have been taking longer and longer showing improved stamina for both martial artists. Mr. Popo plays a few notes on a flute. The two pupils stop what they are doing and come over to him in their preferred methods, Yamcha walks and Chiaotzu levitates.

"Great job today, both of you," praises Mr. Popo. "Chiaotzu, you've been working very hard on the physical strength of your body and it's showing more and more every day."

"Thank you Mr. Popo," says Chiaotzu with a bow.

"And Yamcha, your control of flight has improved greatly since you got here. I'm sure you could fly from Korin Tower without any trouble now. You should be proud."

"Yeah, but I still can't change directions as quickly as everyone else can. I need to do better," Yamcha says clenching a fist.

"Movement is certainly important," agrees Mr. Popo, "but don't discount how much improvement you've made in ki control. When you first started, your ki usage was very inefficient when it came to flying. But the extra meditations you've been doing have reduced such waste dramatically. That deserves a congratulations."

"I guess, but throwing myself a participation party now won't help me against the Saiyans when they get here," chides Yamcha self loathingly. "Whatever, if we're taking a break, I'm going to call Bulma."

"Whew," exhales Bulma.

She leans back in her chair and bends over its frame stretching her arms high over her head. The position undoes the strain on her spine from hunching over her workstation. She has been staring through a magnifying glass mounted to the table as she dexterously soldered the last few component boards of her latest invention for several hours.

She gives her shoulders a massage until the phone rings. She presses a button on her nearby laptop opening a voice chat program.

"Hey Yamcha. Is everything okay?" she says. "You usually call at the end of the day."

"Yeah it's fine," returns his voice with a bit of static. Her laptop screen visualizes the auditory waves.

"You sound stressed out. Is training not going well today?" she says fishing for the source of his discontent.

"Oh it's fine I guess, just frustrating today," broods Yamcha. "How are things for you?"

"I'm glad you asked!" she says. "I've got good news that will cheer you up. Remember the strange device the alien wore that gave him readings of everyone's power levels?"

"Yeah."

"And remember how I said I was working on a project after I figured out how to translate it into our language?"

"Yeah."

"Well I just finished it, and I think it's going to help you guys with your training. We can use it to start recording your progress to make more informed decisions about what you guys should work on."

"Wow! Really? That's awesome Bulma," Yamcha says in better spirits. "How soon can you be out here?"

"I could be there tomorrow morning, if Kami lets me that is," she says. "I know you need to have _special permission._"

"No worries," says Yamcha. "I'm in the big green guy's favor, so I'll get you approved. I'll ask him right now and call you back at my usual time. How's that sound?"

"Perfect. I'll talk to you then," she says.

"Oh and how is the search for the Dragon Balls going?" he adds.

"Well I found the general coordinates for each of the six we don't have. Puar, Oolong, Ox King, and Upa are searching for the ones on land with the Dragon Radar. There was one in the ocean but Turtle said he was going after that one."

"What happened to Master Roshi?"

"Oh, he went to see his sister for some reason."

"You mean that old hag Fortune Teller Baba?"

"Yep that's the one."

"Huh, wonder what he's doing there?"

"Don't know," muses Bulma. "Anyway, I should get going."

"Yeah me too," says Yamcha. "It was great talking to you. I needed some good news. It really helped calm me down."

"Yep, no problem. Can't wait to hear back from you tonight," she says.

"You too," he says.

Boop. The call ends with the press of a button. Bulma smiles as she disconnects the call.

"Who was that sweetie?" asks Dr. Brief right behind her.

She starts in surprise.

"Geez dad! Don't sneak up on me like that," she says with her hand over her heart. It gives a few palpitations before settling. "I thought you were still on the other side of the lab with your telescope."

"Who was on the phone?" he repeats.

"It was just Yamcha. He's going to see if he can get me up to Kami's temple," Bulma says.

"You two have been talking a lot lately," says her father. "Weren't you really upset with him over something? Isn't that why you broke up with him?"

"Oh dad, it's nothing serious," she says. "We need to keep in touch to prepare for the Saiyans."

"Krillin's up there isn't he? You could contact him," he says.

"I guess. You know dad, you've been spending more time observing that red planet than working on the spaceship," she says redirecting the conversation. "How's your research going?"

"Unfortunately I haven't made much progress yet," he says despairingly. "How that machine propels itself or even reaches the speed necessary for practical space travel still eludes me. I'm worried it's damaged beyond the point of me being able to deduce how it's supposed to function."

"Well you're the smartest person in the world, so I know you'll figure it out," she says cheerfully. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pack up some stuff for the trip."

Dr. Brief watches her as he takes a long drag on his cigarette before breathing it out. The hazy smoke rising into the air obscures his vision of her as she disappears through the main door to the lab.

"Dag nabbit woman! Can't you work any faster?" cries Master Roshi. "It's been three weeks already. The world is in danger and we've wasted three whole weeks."

"Oh I'm sorry, can you summon a spirit from the Other World faster than me?" yells back the haggard voice of his sister. "Because by all means, I'd love for you to show me how. You should be grateful I'm doing this for free and not charging you a proper fee."

"I didn't realize your old heart crusted over to the point that helping save the world is something you have a hard time doing without any monetary compensation," shouts the turtle hermit.

"Well how would you feel if a perverted old man showed up at your place, demanded free martial arts lessons, and then spent his every waking moment looking at adult magazines!" spits the fortune teller.

"Hey now! We may not have much time left, and we need to enjoy our hobbies to the fullest," says Master Roshi.

"Sure, while I do all the work," says Baba. "You've requested he come to the world of the living for quite a long time. Far more than is usually allowed for anyone. Do you have any idea how difficult it is getting approval for a normal summoning? This hasn't been easy you know."

"I know, I know," says Master Roshi. "And I wouldn't have asked if there were some other way. And because I know I haven't said it enough, thank you sis."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," she grumbles.

"So while we're still waiting for the powers that be to answer your spiritual call, are you able to read Earth's future?"

Baba turns to gaze into a crystal ball nearly as big as she is floating nearby. She waves her hands over it with ritualistic gestures causing it to glow in an eerie aura. She chants in a long dead language. When she finishes speaking, the orb turns black before returning to its usual clear white sheen.

"What does that mean?" he asks. "It didn't look good."

"Something is obscuring my reading of the future events related to the Saiyans," she says.

"Something?"

"Well predicting the future is a lot like predicting the weather," she says. "It's not an exact science. I can usually see the most likely outcome, but nothing ever happens exactly as forecast. Even then, yet to be occurrences can change drastically due to unforeseen reasons. And of course, the further into the future I try to see, the less accurate the prediction becomes."

"Great, but what does that mean for our planet when the Saiyans arrive?"

"It means I don't know," says Baba. She sighs. "It's like there's a coming storm blocking any attempt to see beyond it, so I can't get a reading for the Saiyans."

"What kind of storm!" says Roshi.

"One I can't tell if we make it through," she says forebodingly.

Before she can elaborate, Baba's crystal ball glows on its own accord.

"The Other World has made their decision," she says. "Hopefully it's one in our favor."


	15. Goku's Out of Body Experience

Goku stops cold. A chill raises the skin on the back of his neck in a series of goosebumps. They spread across his shoulder blades and down his exposed arms. The tiny hairs of his body erect themselves as antennas sensing for danger. The threatening life force he feels grows in strength as it approaches him from the direction he needs to travel.

Goku watches the horizon for an aura. The ki signature is bigger than the one from the alien who killed him. Not by much, but bigger just the same. Knowing how the last battle ended for him, his instinct tells him to run. But it is also telling him to fight. He breathes in a meditating breath. For a moment, he holds it. As he expels it, he spreads his feet shoulder width apart bending at the knees. With a firm stance, he stands his ground. Enduring the monotony of the past month makes him almost welcome the looming presence.

A figure zooms into view. In a matter of seconds, the person is close enough for Goku to make out the face. It is a face he recognizes all too well, his own. The shock takes Goku aback and off balance as the duplicate of himself sets down on Snake Way mere yards ahead.

His mimic is not a perfect copy however. A Saiyan tail flicks back and forth behind him. He is also wearing armor in the same style as the alien who kidnapped his son except with greater girth. It is a blackish green around the pecks and down the sides. The ribbed guards protruding from the shoulders and waist to cover the upper legs are dark blue. There is no jumpsuit either, just bulging arm and leg muscles. Instead of the thin gloves and boots of the previous foe's attire, the clone wears robust gauntlets and stout sabatons. The gauntlets are especially intimidating as they spike passed the elbows.

The resemblance is uncanny. Aside from a slightly darker complexion and some bigger biceps, everything from the hairstyle to the facial features are exactly the same as Goku's. The demeanor is different though. Scowling eyes, frowning lips, and crossed arms make him standoffish in the imposing armor. The only redeeming factor is the softly glowing halo hovering above his head.

"Man, and here I was hoping things were going to stop looking the same around here," says Goku greeting the new arrival. He cannot shake the weird déjà vu of seeing a living reflection of himself. "This place sure is strange. I never expected to meet a copy of myself."

"You've got some nerve!" shouts the lookalike. He steps forward uncrossing his arms and shakes a fist at Goku. "Accusing me of being the copy when you're the imposter, bah!"

Goku braces back into a fighting stance at the aggression.

"I'm no imposter," says Goku. "So who are you and why do you look like me?"

"I can't believe it's this bad," says the man. "The Kai told me a kind hearted man was passing himself off as me, but you actually think you're the real one. I thought for sure deep down you knew better. Before coming here, all I could think about was taking out all of my hatred on you for what you've done to me. But now, I almost pity you. I mean honestly, how can I feel good about beating the shit out of someone so delusional?"

"I'm not delusional. I don't know why you have my face or think you're me," Goku says, "but I'm not you. I'm Goku. I always have been."

"Goh-coo? What kind of stupid name is that?" asks the man. He laughs as if told a joke.

"It's mine. I assumed you'd have the same if we're copies like you say," says Goku.

"Of course my name isn't _Goh-coo_. I have a proper Saiyan name. It's Kakarot."

"Kakarot?" exclaims Goku.

"Sorry is there an echo?" says the tailed warrior.

"That's the name of the Saiyan the alien I met was looking for," says Goku.

"Now you're getting it," says Kakarot. "And because of your bleeding heart bullshit, the Galactic Empire thinks I'm a soft handed priss. I must be the laughing stock of my peers and fellow Saiyans. Just thinking about it gets my blood boiling. It makes me FURIOUS! And I can't rest until I destroy you for ruining my reputation as a battle hardened soldier."

"I can see now how I was mistaken for you," says Goku. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, I really am. But your empire is at fault not me. Now please let me pass. I don't want to fight over this."

"A Saiyan passing up the opportunity for combat? What could be so important you would avoid facing me in battle?"

"I need to receive training from the master who lives at the end of Snake Way, and I don't have a lot of time to get stronger."

"You fool. You can't increase your power level with training. Saiyans can only get stronger by being on the front lines of battle, by pushing ourselves to the brink of death. But maybe you lost your love for fighting when you lost your tail. What a pathetic Saiyan you are."

"I've never claimed to be one of you," says Goku. "And if starting unnecessary violence is what it means to be a Saiyan, then I'm happy not being one. I just want to live peacefully on Earth."

"Don't you get it?" says Kakarot "There is no Earth anymore. I destroyed it when I was sent there as a child. Their strongest warriors, their most powerful armies, all obliterated by me and conquered for the Galactic Empire. It's nothing but an empty wasteland waiting to go up for auction and be inhabited by the highest bidder. That is a proud Saiyan legacy. And you took it from me. You're just a tailless freak who shies away from a fight. That's why I'm going to eradicate you. Make sense now?"

"You're wrong," says Goku. "I've saved Earth several times, and I'll keep doing it no matter how many times people like you threaten it."

"Enough blather," declares Kakarot. "The sight of you sickens me. Saving planets? Bleh! You're no Saiyan, but I'd be happy to show you what it means to be a real warrior and not some tailless imposter before I end your existence. Now prepare for battle!"

The dark reflection pulls his arms back, and Goku naturally readies himself. His enemy's ki presence is huge. And yet, despite the mass he feels bearing down on him, something keeps him calm under the pressure. Something has felt different since arriving in Other World. A new strength he did not understand. Maybe it is just a side effect of being dead. Either way, the urge to test this new strength puts him at ease.

Kakarot opens with a hail of hand sized ki blasts. The bullets shine with a light purple pulsing forth to their target. Goku infuses his forearms and hands with energy and begins swiping them aside. They fly harmlessly off into the distance.

"Looks like you have more than just my good looks," says Kakarot. "I'm glad. I'd hate to think you've been portraying me as a weakling as well as a soft hearted fool."

"Of course, they're basically just ranged punches," Goku says smirking a little. "Nothing to worry about."

_That said,_ he thinks,_ this guy's active ki feels like it's more than my total ki if I could draw all of it out at once. Probably more. I need to be at my best. I have no idea how much of it he can use all at once._

"A little attitude after all," Kakarot says. "Well allow me to punch that grin off your face!"

Kakarot lunges forward with a full body tackle. Goku gracefully takes to the air in a spiraling flip over the rushing attack and lands facing his opponent. The tailed Saiyan takes two lumbering steps to halt his momentum after being outmaneuvered. A purple aura spouts forth from him as he pushes himself backward from a deep squat. He drives an elbow behind him, hoping to impale his target on the spiked gauntlet.

This charge is moving too fast for Goku to leap over again. Sidestepping is not an option either because of the narrow path they are on. Though he could leave the road to hover above the golden clouds, one good hit could drop him into the Hell below. He would be trapped forever.

Goku decides to test his might against his adversary's. He twists his body to slide his right shoulder inside the sharp spine of the foe's gauntlet. His upper arm takes the brunt of the pointed elbow. A painful pinch squeezes the limb between both of their weights. Despite blocking with his full power, the strike knocks him off balance. He regains it quickly enough with three tiny steps, backpedaling for some distance. A quick glance to his throbbing arm confirms an already forming bruise.

Though it was only a brief movement of the pupils, Kakarot sees it. He smiles knowing his target expected its defense to withstand that blow. If that block is the extent of his opponent's power, then this fight is already won.

_Man, this guy will definitely out muscle me hand to hand,_ Goku thinks. _I'll need to change tactics._

Kakarot charges again.

"Kamehameha!" shouts Goku firing a hasty beam.

Though there is not enough time to gather ki for a powerful wave, the blast only needs to catch his foe by surprise and create a small opening. However, Kakarot shifts out of its path by leaving the security of Snake Way. Without fear of eternal damnation, he continues forward in an arcing path around the beam to Goku's right side.

The kind Saiyan barely gets his guard up. His ruthless counterpart purposefully targets the bruise on his arm like a bullseye for a stomping heel. The kick sends Goku reeling out above the heavenly veil head over heels.

He throws out his arms and legs to slow himself with extra drag. In an upside down position, he comes to a stop and reorients himself. He is now floating over the dangerous barrier he dare not cross while Kakarot is now standing safely on Snake Way.

He darts at an angle to get back to the road, but his adversary charges and launches a ki ball with a circumference greater than that of the fully extended fingers from his palm. Goku barely pulls back in time as the orb whizzes by him. The power radiating from it is far greater than anything so far.

_Wow, could that ki blast really be as strong as his melee attacks?_ he wonders. _Usually it's far harder to match your ranged attacks to your physical ones because it takes so much more control to manipulate ki outside the body. But he seems to have no trouble with it. If one of those things hits me in a vital area, I'll be in serious trouble. At least he doesn't seem to be able to do it as rapidly as he punches. I'll need the preparation time to react._

He tries a couple more times but the result is the same. Kakarot smiles in enjoyment at preventing him from landing. Goku cannot keep this up, especially with the weighted clothes he is wearing. Every second spent flying is him losing more ki than his enemy.

Goku decides to race along parallel to the road heading towards King Kai's planet. Kakarot frowns at the change of strategy but chases after him running along the path.

"Come on," yells Kakarot. "Don't be a sore loser. I'll let you back on, I promise."

"I don't need to," says Goku. The spikes of his hair bend behind him as he increases his speed. "You can't hit me out here anyway. So you're really not a threat."

"Not a threat?" repeats Kakarot

"Sorry did you hear an echo?" calls Goku.

Kakarot grits his teeth and whispers, "well then I guess playtime is over."

Still running alongside Goku, he grabs his right wrist with the opposite hand and opens its palm upwards. A white hot orb with a dark purple fringe grows to a size bigger than his head. Goku observes the demonstration hoping his goading does not end up backfiring.

"Sadonsutomu!" Kakarot cries shoving his summoned energy toward Goku.

By way of fission, a multitude of orbs the same size and color as the original pull free of the main body and drive through the air with glowing trails in their wake. They expand quickly as a wide cone to fill the sky around Goku. Each one closes up safe space to move in as they fire in random directions towards his general area.

"Oh man," says Goku. "I can't believe he has a technique that can volley so many ki blasts just as strong as a single one. This guy is way more dangerous than I imagined."

His eyes widen as they try to follow every individual movement. Each one of these spheres emanate with enough strength to knock him out cold leaving him to fall to Hell. The attack would undoubtedly leave his foe exhausted but that does not matter if it ends the fight. So he either needs to weather the entire storm to win or succumb to the massive barrage.

He heads away from the source of the rapid fire assault for more time to react. He moves upward to reach the edge of the target area. Kakarot merely adjusts his aim to keep Goku at the center by holding his hand over his adversary's body. The blasts cut Goku off leaving him stranded in the eye of the storm once again. The blasts begin shooting more rapidly tightening up the already limited space between them.

He tries to block one of the blasts with his left forearm. The heavy impact pushes him backward as he diverts its course. His bones buckles as he bruises from elbow to wrist just the same as his right arm did earlier.

_Like I thought,_ he thinks. _If I try to block all of these, they will just beat me down._

He weaves in between them. Forward and backward, side to side. His breaths grow heavier with each high speed movement, dashing and stopping and then dashing again. Without anything like the ground to push off of, it just takes more ki to he get started quickly from each complete stop.

He cannot keep this up. He cannot draw out ki anywhere near fast enough to match how much he is using to move around. And with his active ki limit being lower than Kakarot's, he will run out first. Goku, still zipping about within the dangerous bombardment, moves his hands to his side with one cupped over the other.

"Kah, meh," he chants. Collecting the energy is tough while also spending it on movement. "Hah, meh. Ha!"

He fires a beam towards his opponent strong enough to match the level of the ki balls being thrown at him. Its progress is impeded every time it runs into one of the orbs, slowing it down with each impact. But it plows on clearing a path towards the target while simultaneously defending him as a physical barrier.

Kakarot responds by narrowing the focal point of his discharging projectiles. More and more blasts run into Goku's blue cylinder of energy as they swarm closer together. Each of them eat away at it while beginning to push it back.

Goku sweats as the strain to maintain the technique burdens his stamina. His active ki limit runs out, and he dips into his passive reserves like he would for the super variation of his signature move. Except instead of power, he pushes for longevity. He can feel his wave coming to a standstill with his opponent as the two sides tug back and forth. One of them is about to exhaust. One of them has to.

Smoke and steam build into a cloud with every collision of energy. Eventually the cloud thickens beyond visibility. Kakarot finally tires and relents his aggressive attack. No laser punches through the cloud above him, so he must have outlasted his impersonator. Something drops out of the dirty black cloud. He assumes the body of his victim is falling either unconscious or dead to the golden sea below.

Once the object fully exits the obscuring screen, he sees it is just a boot and realizes it is coming straight for him. He deflects it with the gauntlet of his right forearm but the unexpected weight of it pushes him back one step. His own arm slaps him in the cheek. Looking back from the disrespectful tactic, he finds a second boot hurtling down as well. He barely manages to deflect this one with his opposite arm and again gets pushed off balance by the heaviness of the footwear.

_What are these made of? Why would anyone wear them? They would just slow you down,_ he thinks.

As he stumbles backwards towards the edge of Snake Way, he tries to focus on the cloud one more time. And now it is Goku flying straight at him head first. He is moving faster than before, the massive boots no longer holding him back. With both of Kakarot's arms knocked aside and still staggering about to find his footing, he cannot defend himself.

Goku slams his forehead into the center of his enemy's face. The crack of a breaking nose sounds. Goku flops onto the pathway while Kakarot falls over the side of it, blood spraying from his nostrils. The tailless Saiyan stands up awkwardly from exhaustion and flicks off his wristbands to free himself up even more. His mimic struggles to pull himself back onto the road having just barely caught the lip of it with one hand.

Released of much of his burden, Goku sprints down Snake Way to buy some time to draw out the remainder of his ki. He feels it resurface from its latent state inside him as if carried on the blood pumping from his heart. Kakarot is not far behind flailing like a madman through fatigue and anger.

"Get back here!" shouts Kakarot. "I'm going to tear you limb from limb."

Goku looks up and to the right to respond.

"I don't want to hurt you. Turn around for your own good."

"Never. A warrior who doesn't want to hurt anyone is no warrior at all."

Blood still runs from his nose forming a crimson goatee as it flows around his mouth. Refusing to slow down, Goku presses on.

He puts one hand over the other, palms facing each other in front of his chest. A tiny white light sparkles there. Kakarot races after him. Each step brings him closer to his prey. When he can almost reach out an arm and grab his victim's collar, he pounces forward to pin him to the ground. The entire time he is unaware of the trap Goku is funneling him into. As the aggressor falls upon him from above, Goku spins in place to reveal what he has been preparing. Unable to fly from a lack of ki, Kakarot knows there will be no dodging this wave

His face changes from satisfaction to despair. A bluish white energy fires straight into his chest. A hot force envelops his body. The plasma presses against him imprinting an outline of his silhouette into the malleable material. It burns against his skin as he rushes in the opposite direction of his charge.

Goku gives the Kamehameha everything he has left to carry his foe away on the edge of the blast. The beam streaks along the top of the serpentine body towards a far off horizon. Goku drops to one knee continuing to exert himself. His technique starts to waver and thin as it runs out of fuel. It slims down to nothing. He looks for any sign of the strange enemy, but there is none to be seen. No indication of ki either though it had probably been completely depleted.

He sits down cross-legged to rest and slips his arms inside the shirt of his orange gi. They pop up through the neck hole of the gi which slides down his sides to his waist. Both of his hands grab the base of his weighted blue shirt. He wriggles the heavy fabric over his elbows for some extra lifting leverage. It does not come off easy and catches his ears on the way up, but he manages to remove it. His arms collapse to his lap still wrapped in the garment.

He shrugs his shoulders a few times to shake the shirt from his forearms. He stands up, puts his arms back through their proper place in his gi, and hurries off to keep distance between himself and his evil twin who may still be chasing after him.


	16. Piccolo Struggles and Gohan Starves

The sun peaks over the horizon of a new morning, but Piccolo and his identical counterpart are already a few hours into their training for the day. They each stand opposing one another with their arms crossed and their eyes tightly shut. Deep wrinkles squirm on their foreheads as they focus intently on the levitating boulder between them.

The uneven chunk of rock sways back and forth from telekinetic impulses from either side. With a diameter four or more times his own height, the pressure it exerts on his mind feels like his brain will implode any moment. He desperately tries to clear his psyche of distracting thoughts, but they keep creeping in. Each one of them allows the boulder to crawl slightly closer to him. After every lapse, his counteracting psychic pushes never gain as much ground as he loses.

"You're slipping," coos the clone. "Anything the matter?"

Anger flushes in Piccolo's head from the mockery, but this only exacerbates his predicament. He tries to channel the rage toward the stone behemoth willing it to move back to the middle where it started. But it is no use, his rising temper clouds his thoughts.

The boulder picks up speed as it floats towards him. He desperately shoves both hands forward, a meaningless gesture in a mental duel. The rock presses up against his open palms. He slides backwards along the ground. His rage piquing, he fills the earthy mass with ki until it explodes.

"Aaarrrggghhh!" shouts Piccolo while the dust and debris disperses around him.

"Well that settles that," he hears his clone say.

He looks up to see his double marching confidently over to him.

"Settles what?" he demands.

"You've lost your edge," says the doppelganger. "And it's been slipping away for some time now."

"No it hasn't!"

"Don't give me that," scoffs the copy. "You've wanted to kill Goku since the day you were born. That is your purpose. For eight years you have failed to achieve it. Eight long, lonely years."

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't fool me. I'm part of you. The part of you that still believes in the dream of the Demon King. But you, you've lost faith in yourself. You're wondering what else life has to offer if you can't do the one thing that's supposed to bring you fulfillment."

"I don't need this! We're supposed to be training."

"Clearly you do. You need to get your head straight because you couldn't even maintain a shoki exercise for half the time I could have. Without a singular focus on what you want to be and achieve, the full potential of your ki cannot be unleashed since it'll be divided among several paths. That's why you can't concentrate. Because your mind can't control the inner turmoil which lets in the distracting thoughts."

"I know that!"

"Apparently you don't and are in need of a lesson," reprimands the clone. "You're worrying about what will make you happy. You've been wondering why Goku is happy with his family and friends and whether you would be happier with some of your own. But that's just the weakness talking."

It continues. "Remember what happened when Goku tried protecting his family and friends? He died. And guess what? They and the planet are still in danger. Nothing has changed. The world and its people will always be one step away from death no matter how many times he risks his life. So why get attached?

"And even if he had survived, he would have lost a friend instead. And then what? Now he'd be sad over their death and probably angry too. So all the negative emotions you're having from being alone would be just as bad if you put yourself in his situation. So give up this stupid notion of believing he's happier than you. It disgusts me, and I don't want to be around it anymore. Do what you're supposed to do and stop comparing it to anyone else. Now take the rest of the day to get your shit together. Next time you summon me, you better have it figured out."

The double merges with its original in a flash of light. Piccolo drops to one knee. His eyes are wide and his teeth clenched.

…

The light and warmth of a new day's light fall upon Gohan's forehead like his mother's hand checking for a fever. He does not stir at the touch. His eyes merely creep open. Hunger roars from his stomach.

He unpins his chin from his shoulder, dragging it along the rough surface it rests on. His gaze lands on a fire from the previous night. It glows with orange embers. Knowing he must tend to the dying heat, he finally rustles into motion. His arms and legs creak as if they are withered branches, moving only as much as necessary. He slides down a bumpy yet even plane.

His feet touch solid ground and his legs nearly buckle under his deteriorating weight. He leans against the lilac splotched shell of the egg he slept on all night.

"Good morning egg. I hope I kept you warm last night," he says. "Let me get the fire going again okay."

He makes his way across the grassy patched plateau he is still stuck on. He stops at every tall weed along the way. He suckles at their slender leaves to slurp up the dew for some much needed hydration.

He eventually comes to a wiry bramble of sticks. This mangled mess of a nest was where he found the egg a couple days ago. It rests between two rocky structures to keep it out of sight of any predators. He breaks off as much wood as he needs to get the fire going again and returns to the egg.

Gohan plops down beside the unborn creature and stokes the flames with new fuel. His stomach cries with hunger. It practically collapses in on itself with every rumble it gives. He looks at the egg for a long moment. His stomach goes through another series of growls.

"Don't worry egg, I'm not going to eat you," he says.

He turns back to the growing flames as he continues to poke them and throw more branches on.

"I just hope I get to see you hatch, even if I die doing it. It's funny, I never thought about dying before. But ever since my dad did, I've been thinking about it a lot. And while I don't want to, I don't want to take another life to save my own. That just doesn't seem right to me. You deserve the chance to live just like everyone else. I was hoping your mommy would be back by now but I guess I'm all you've got for the moment. So I'll do my best to keep you alive. I promise."

On another plateau not far away, Piccolo sits in a meditative pose. His face continuously contorts as his eyes squint tighter and tighter and his jaw clenches harder and harder. Then both burst open as he yells out and jumps to his feet.

"Want to be like Goku. Ha. That's a laugh," he says. "I've never needed anyone before so why start now. No, what's been pissing me off is that my life might rely on that child over there who's just as soft as Goku. He can't even eat an egg that would feed him for days when it's presented itself right in front of him. I was going to start training him soon but obviously that would just be a waste of time. Might as well let him die up there for all the good he'll do against the Saiyans. If he won't kill a harmless egg, then he'll never be ready for a fight to the death."

He grumbles and mutters to himself before finally settling down and sitting again. His eyes close but still dart around behind their lids.

Gohan spends the rest of the day keeping the fire going and lying next to the egg. He tells it stories of his dad's adventures growing up. When dusk falls upon the world for the third time since reaching the summit, he attempts to climb on the egg for another night. But he does not have enough strength in his legs to hop up its side high enough to get over the curve of its shell. He tries a couple more times but is left more fatigued after each one. He finally turns his back to the egg and slides down it to his butt.

"I'm sorry Egg," he says. "I don't have the energy to get up there anymore. I don't know if either one of us will make it through the night now. I wish I'd been able to do more. I wish I could've seen my mommy one more time…"

He trails off as tears dampen his eyes a little. His body cannot even produce enough for them to run down his cheeks. Amidst his dry crying, something bumps his back. He turns his head but only sees the egg. A loud cracking sound followed by a shove knocks him on his stomach.

He looks over his shoulder to see a leg sticking out of the light purple and white shell. Fissures begin to spiderweb out from that spot as more of the creature hatches. At first it looks like a dinosaur with lilac scales and a yellowish underbelly. Three sets of paired horns stick out of its head, two from each side and a set on top.

The reptile stands up straight breaking out of the rest of its container. It rolls both shoulder and wings unfold themselves spreading wide. At its full height, the dragon stands taller than Gohan himself. Its eyes blink open a few times before its wings start flapping. Within a few trots of its feet, it is airborne.

The dragon circles the plateau Gohan is on alerting Piccolo to its presence from his distant vantage point. Gohan watches in awe as it does a couple loops in the air. Then the boy quickly curls up defensively as the animal suddenly comes in for a landing on top of him. He feels a gust of wind and hears the sound of beating wings. When all is quiet, he looks up.

The dragon straddles him with its legs while looking down upon him. The reptile shoves its head against his chest and inhales deeply through its nostrils. As it raises its head, a warm tongue rubs along Gohan's face. The boy wipes away the saliva before looking at the creature. It seems to smile and wags its tail.

"Wow, I didn't think it was a dragon's egg," he says with tired enthusiasm. "Hey boy, do you think you could carry me down to the lake over there?"

Gohan points to a body of water he had seen while gazing from the mountaintop with nothing else to do. The dragon nods its head as if it understands. It turns around and chirps with a half roar half snort. Gohan climbs onto its back and holds on to the long neck as tightly as he can.

Before he knows it, he is zipping through the sky like the times his father took him for trips on the Flying Nimbus. This ride is tame by comparison except for the landing. They practically crash into the shallow waters of the lake as the dragon swoops in hard skipping across the liquid surface. Gohan eagerly hops down to dunk his head, completely submerging it. When he pulls it out, he sees his companion drinking greedy gulps as well.

"Thanks for the taxi ride, dragon," says Gohan. "You saved my life."

The dragon stops drinking to smile and wags its tail again. The appendage splashes water about spraying Gohan in the face.

"Hey watch it," he giggles.

Piccolo grimaces down at the sight from far overhead. He watches the spectacle for a moment longer before giving one last sneer. With a twirl of his cape, he flies off.


	17. Bulma, Master Ki Trainer?

Kami's fingernails dig deeper and deeper into his staff while watching Bulma unpack her scientific inventions from large crates that poofed into existence from her Capsules. Every new contraption looks more intimidating than the last. All of the lights and buttons seem too complicated to be worth the hassle. What could they do that traditional martial arts instructions could not?

"Alright, that's the last of it," Bulma says.

"Wow Bulma, you've outdone yourself," says Yamcha. "What does all of this stuff do?"

"This is all designed to measure and study ki," she says. "Recording and analyzing data is the quickest way to improve."

"Pardon my intrusion Bulma," says Kami, "but Mr. Popo and I are quite capable of sensing our students' progress."

"With all due respect," Bulma says, "it's been proven that the mind's perception of reality is highly fallible. What we feel isn't as accurate as an outside observer. And hard data doesn't lie. Now I won't claim to know more about ki than you do, but my machines are here to help you make more informed decisions about how to proceed."

"Hmm," Kami says. His hands increase the tightness of their grip on the staff. "I have always advocated for the necessity of change and embracing the innovations of others. I still don't see what place technology has in martial arts training, but I'm willing to try something new. Let's see how today goes."

"Thank you sir," she says beaming. "You won't be disappointed."

Kami nods with pursed lips.

"Alright let's begin," she says. She holds up the scouter the alien was wearing during the day of their encounter. "This thing can read the life force, power level, battle power, whatever you want to call it, of a living being. I'll be using this technology to take measurements of your abilities so we can figure out what's working and what needs improvement. Each device here serves a specific purpose towards that end.

"First of all I want to see how much you've improved so far. Now I only have some of the most recently stored numbers from the scouter's memory cache which include Yamcha and Krillin. It overwrites old readings as new ones come in. And mind you I had to translate these readings from an alien language, but I'm pretty sure I matched all the numbers up right. Yamcha's power level was 177 and Krillin's was 206."

Krillin flexes an arm at his friend and smiles.

"And where are we now?" asks Yamcha.

"Take a stance and let's find out," says Bulma.

He and Krillin nod at each other before striking their poses. Bulma puts on the scouter and pushes the button. It begins beeping as the numbers tick up and the rectocals on the screen zero in on the two fighters. They begin to slow down until they stop.

"Looks like Krillin is up to 293 and Yamcha … 298!" Bulma says.

"Alright!" says Yamcha with a fist pump. "And I'm going to keep pushing it higher."

"Careful Yamcha," says Kami. "That device is only measuring your active ki which is all we can sense as well. There is more to being strong than raising your active limit."

"What do you mean?" says Yamcha. "The alien was way stronger than Goku and Piccolo, and his active ki was huge."

"True but he could not use all of it at once," says Kami. "Goku and Piccolo, however, could put their entire active ki into any of their techniques. And just as you and everyone else here has more latent energy hidden within, so too do Goku and Piccolo. The alien invader did not know how to draw this power out. All of his strength was on the surface without any control over it. Goku and Piccolo know how much total ki they can use at once and worked on raising that amount along with their passive total rather than the amount of their active ki."

"Yeah, Master Roshi tried to explain something like that," says Yamcha. "But I assumed raising your active ki would also raise the amount of ki you could use at one time."

"General training will always make everything a little stronger," Kami says. "What's important is targeting specific things to have a greater impact on their improvement. Goku and Piccolo did raise their active ki limits but not by focusing on it. Instead they focused on how much they could control at one time. As that skill grew, their active pool did so by extension and was therefore never higher than it realistically needed to be. If they wanted, they could have learned to draw out all of their ki to match the power level of the alien, but they would still have been limited by how much energy they could control at once."

"Pardon me Kami," says Tien, "But having a higher active ki pool does mean you don't have to worry about drawing out passive ki during a life threatening situation since it would already be drawn out, correct?"

"Indeed. I'm not trying to say there is no value in a high active ki limit, just that one should be mindful of how they develop their abilities."

"So if we have a high passive pool," says Tien, "it would be good to work on the active side to avoid bottlenecking how much we have access too."

"Precisely Tien," confirms Kami. "Or if someone has a hard time drawing out their inner ki, it would be better for them to push most of it into their active ki so it's ready for use if they anticipate a fight. Of course doing so does risk it slipping away in lapses of concentration such as when struck in battle."

"Woah, woah, woah," says Bulma. "I need a crash course in all this active versus passive ki business."

"If that would better help you assist us, then certainly," says Kami. "Chiaotzu, you have been studying this topic the most heavily, I believe you could provide the easiest to understand explanation."

"I'll try," he says in his squeaky high voice.

He floats forward looking down at the floor as everyone's eyes fall on him.

"Imagine ki as a weight," he begins. "And let's say we have two people with two hundred pounds of ki each within the core of their bodies. This is known as their passive ki. Both of them are able to draw up to one hundred pounds of this power out of their cores and use it for superhuman feats like increased strength or flight. This is known as their active ki.

"Now imagine that in order to utilize their active ki, they must be able to lift its weight. Though they have the same total and enough strength to hold the one hundred pound mass, their skill at manipulating it is different. When person A tries to use all of his active ki at once, it feels like a massive ball taller than himself. If control is represented by the size of this ki object, then his lack of control makes the ki unmanageably big. There is no lifting technique that would allow him to get an object of this size and mass off the ground.

"Since he can't reduce the size because of his poor control, he must resort to using smaller pieces of it light enough for him to lift instead. In the end, the largest piece he can get his arms around and legs under to lift is twenty pounds. So even though he has one hundred pounds of active ki, he can only use twenty percent of it at a time.

"Now person B has much better control. His one hundred pound sphere is only the size of a sports ball thereby making it much more manageable to lift. With a proper technique, he can pick it up off the ground fairly easily. Therefore, he can use one hundred percent of his active ki unlike person A."

"Okay, that makes sense," says Bulma. "It's almost like how potential and kinetic energy work. Your total active ki would be the potential of power you could use, while the kinetic power comes from how much of it actually gets released. It's not a perfect analogy but it kind of fits.

"Kinetic ki," says Krillin. "I like the sound of that."

Bulma smiles.

"Uh, I do too," chimes in Yamcha.

"Alright, kinetic ki it is," she says. "And I have something that can measure such a thing. Hang on a minute."

She begins setting something up with great enthusiasm. A tripod with a post sticking straight up from it acts as the main body. A rod runs at a ninety degree angle from the top of the post. A yellow tarp hangs down from the rod with wires running from the bottom to a display screen on the tripod. She pushes a few buttons on the control panel next to the screen.

"Okay Yamcha, you're up," she says. A big grin is on her face.

"Uh, what do I do?" he asks.

"Punch it as hard as you can of course," she says. "Strike it right here in the middle." She points to a box in the center with white lines marking it off from the rest of the mat. "That alien's armor was made out of an interestingly flexible material which I learned how to synthesize and created this fabric from."

"Okay. I'll give it a shot," he says. "I can't promise I won't break it though."

He raises his arms while crouching. Everyone but Bulma feels his life force rise and radiate outward before settling in his right fist. He charges forward delivering a punch with his full body weight behind it. The tarp easily gives under the force, absorbing and diffusing it as rippling waves across its surface. The display reads out a number, and Yamcha steps back to see his results.

"164," says Bulma. She taps the number into the touch screen of a tablet she carries. "Awesome. Your kinetic ki is nearly as strong as your active ki used to be. Okay Krillin your turn."

"Uh, yeah," he says with a nod.

He slides his left leg forward towards the device while raising his right hand behind his head away from it. There is no swell of energy like with Yamcha's attack. Instead, the others feel its mass gather in the bald man's core. He leaps forward with his striking hand swinging around as his body uncoils until his arm is straight. The energy transfers from his center through the extended appendage. It makes contact in the same fashion as his friend's before him.

"205. Nice Krillin," Bulma says. Again she records the data and smiles. "Just one point shy of your previous active ki limit. You've improved a lot."

"Uh, thank you," he says with a slight bow. "Your machine is very impressive."

"I know right," she says gleefully. "And it's working better than I hoped. I'll have you boys whipped into shape in no time."

Yamcha clenches both his fists while his head drops a little. Krillin looks over to him and then quickly averts his eyes.

"Alright, Tien and Chiaotzu. Would you both step up next?" Bulma says.

"Wait," says Yamcha before they can barely fidget at the sound of their names. "I'd like to try one more time."

Before she can answer, he is already taking a stance, this one different from the last. Both hands remain open with the fingers curled forward like claws. He shifts more of his weight to his back leg rather than evenly between them. The others feel a fiercer ki this time. One that does not burst outward from his body but merely fills it. He drives at the mat once again. His aura takes the shape of a wolf as it swirls tightly atop his skin.

"Rogafufuken!" he howls.

Bulma raises an arm over her face as the winds kick up from him rushing by her. She does not even see the attack land. All she is left with is the number on the screen, 295.

"Wu-wow," she says. Her voice is nearly a whisper. "That was fantastic Yamcha."

Krillin cannot suppress a fist pump at the show of force.

"I want my regular strikes to hit that hard," he says. A focused look remains on his face. "Kami, that's my new goal. To make full use of my active ki with every punch, just like Goku."

Kami nods in approval.

"That was impressive Yamcha, but there's something I'm not understanding," says Bulma. "You just used an attack of 295 but your power level reading didn't drop by that much. How does that work?"

"Ki is not a one to one currency," says Kami. "A skilled user can do more with less ki. And an unskilled user would do the opposite, using more ki to do less. Each technique whether it's flight or just hitting harder, are different skills that can be mastered to different degrees of success."

"Interesting," says Bulma flicking her fingers across the screen of her tablet. "Okay, let me measure Tien and Chiaotzu's current performance and then we can get down to more serious matters."

The two nod at each other.

"Alright let's show everyone the results of our training," says Tien with a white aura bursting forth from his body.

"Right," says Chiaotzu doing the same.

"Woah," says Bulma. "Tien's up to 381 and Chiaotzu's power level is 316."

Tien does a flying kick with his extended foot striking the pad. He bounces away as Chiaotzu spirals in with a headbutt. The screen flashes out 266 followed by 173. They smile to one another.

"Nice job Chiaotzu," says Tien. "Your hard work is paying off."

"Yeah, but I'll never be as good as you," says Chiaotzu.

"It's not about being better than someone else. Self improvement isn't a competition," Tien says placing a hand on his companion's head and rubbing it until Chiaotzu's hat slides down over his eyes. The childlike psychic peeks out from under it grinning ear to ear.

"Alright, got it," Bulma says.

"Excellent," says Kami. "Yamcha since you have already decided to increase your, uh, kin-et-ic ki, why don't you go with Mr. Popo and begin. Krillin and Chiaotzu, I want you two on target practice again. Bulma, I think your input would be very useful for Tien's current training would you please come with us."

"Sure thing," she says trotting over to the Guardian. She calls back to Yamcha as she goes. "Good luck, Yamcha. I'll catch up with you later."

She smiles and waves. Yamcha manages to wave back before putting his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet over to Mr. Popo away from her, Kami, and Tien.

"Shall we begin, Yamcha?" asks Mr. Popo.

"Sure," says Yamcha with one last look over his shoulder.

Kami explains something to Bulma with Tien speaking afterwards. He sees Bulma's mouth move to join the conversation.

_What could they be doing over there?_ he wonders. _Man I wish she was helping with my training._

"Yamcha, I need you to focus your mind," says Mr. Popo.

"Yeah, yeah," he says closing his eyes and breathing.

…

"Tien has been working on improving his Shishin no Ken technique," says Kami. "It has a lot of potential, but Goku demonstrated it has a weakness making it a liability rather than an asset. When Tien divides his ki among the clones, they are very susceptible to being defeated individually even when they are working as a cohesive team."

"Yes. Unfortunately I haven't been able to come up with a solution to this problem that lets me use it in battle," says Tien.

"I'm hoping your technology can give us some insights," says Kami.

"Okay, leave it to me," says Bulma. "Let's get some data and go from there."

Tien performs the Shishin no Ken. Bulma has him go through the routine from before. She confirms the limitations when the four clones each show a battle power of 95 and kinetic ki of 66.

"From what I've observed, and what I've learned today," says Bulma, "you may have already solved your own problem."

"What do you mean Bulma?" says Tien.

"Remember earlier when you said there could be some advantages to having a higher active ki even if your kinetic ki isn't high enough to use it all?" she says. "This seems like the technique it's made for. You should try drawing out all of your passive ki that isn't being used anyway and give it to your clones to use. Then you'd be maximizing your full ki potential instead of keeping some of it held back because your active pool is full. Of course you'll still have to figure out how to get the kinetic ki of the clones as strong as your base kinetic ki."

"Thanks," says Tien. "That helps a lot. It gives me a place to start at least."

"Sure thing. Sometimes you just need someone else to look at it from another angle."

She leaves Tien and Kami to figure out the details and walks over to Krillin and Chiaotzu. She is still in awe of how the temple can float above the Earth completely undetectable. Then again, after all the things she has seen hanging around with Goku and their friends, nothing really seems that impossible anymore.

She sees the two shortest fighters practicing aiming their ki blasts. Chiaotzu is mentally levitating spare tiles she assumes are used for replacing those of the floor they all stand on. The tiles zip around the air as Krillin tries to hit them with yellow energy spheres. When the exercise finishes, most of the tiles are nicked in the corners and edges but none have suffered heavy damage.

"Hnn, I'm still not getting it," says Krillin tossing aside the last square of flooring he examines.

"What'cha you guys working on?" asks Bulma standing over them.

"I want to improve my ranged attacks by shooting them faster and with greater accuracy, but I just can't get the hang of it," Krillin says.

"And I'm doing a little of the same while building the endurance of my ki for longer usage," says Chiaotzu.

"Hey Krillin, have you tried adding spin to your shots?" Bulma says.

"Whaddya mean?" he asks.

"I've seen you bend your ki beams before, so I know you can affect their motion," she says. "I was wondering if you could make your ki blasts spin as you release them."

"I probably could, but why?"

"Basic ballistics states that spinning a bullet over its horizontal axis allows it to cut through the air quicker and hold its trajectory longer. I'm not sure if the same principles apply to ki though."

"It's worth a try I suppose. Alright Chiaotzu let's go again!"

Bulma watches as Chiaotzu prepares the tiles while Krillin practices applying spin to an orb that hovers in his hand. It takes him a moment to get it to spin at all. When it does, it sporadically changes directions until he gets it to only turn one way. He looks up to the sky where the tiles dance. He throws one ki ball after another alternating hands. Each sphere punches through a square shattering it into pieces with small explosions.

"Alright! Thanks Bulma."

"Hey no problem. Happy to help," she says giving a wink.

"Alright, my turn," Chiaotzu says. A devious smile creeps onto his face.

"Oh no," says Krillin.

"What's wrong," says Bulma.

"It's my turn to move the targets around, but I have to hold them with my hands since I can't levitate them."

"Oh. Well, good luck with that," Bulma says giving him a pat on the back.

She watches as Krillin flies around with a terrified look on his face and his arms fully outstretched holding the tiles.

"Dodonpa!" Chiaotzu says at the top of his tiny lungs and points a single finger.

A thin yellow beam shoots forth from the tip of the digit. It misses a square, but does not relent. The laser chases Krillin around as Chiaotzu continues to pour ki into it. Bulma sees sweat droplets appear on his forehead. One slides down his pale cheek to his chin. And just when she thinks he is going to explode from the effort, his beam cuts clean through a tile. Chiaotzu immediately stops the technique and bends over placing his hands on his knees. His lungs completely flatten with each exhale to make room for as much new air as possible.

…

The day of training finishes when the sun turns orange in the west. Bulma walks towards a single room portable home from one of her Capsules. Yamcha hurries after her.

"Hey Bulma, wait up a moment. I've been trying to catch you all day," he says coming to a stop.

Bulma turns around.

"Yeah, sorry about that," she says. "It's been a busy day, and I was excited to help out."

"You were awesome," he says smiling.

A silence settles in.

"So, uh, I was wondering," Yamcha says. "I mean, there's something I want to show you. If you have time, that is?"

Bulma giggles.

"Of course," she says. "I'd love to. But, uh, what more is there to see up here? I can see from one side to the other."

"Let me show you. It's great."

He leads her over to the eastern side of Kami's palace. He sits himself on the edge of the platform allowing his legs to bend over it at the knees. Bulma hesitates for a moment before doing the same. She moves slowly and deliberately with one hand on Yamcha's shoulder to steady herself. She kicks her feet back and forth nervously one after the other. She leans back on her palms so she does not accidentally fall forward into the endless sky.

"So, um, what are we looking at?" she asks peering into the navy backdrop.

"Just give it a moment," he says.

They sit wordlessly. Bulma's stomach still feels queasy while Yamcha seems to enjoy the unobstructed wind blowing through his shoulder length hair. She gives the sky another once over still not seeing what the big deal is. A white star twinkles into existence. Then another and another. The navy gives way to black as the stars pop up faster than she can count like someone is poking holes in a dark sheet. It is the clearest night sky she has ever seen without the light pollution of any cities to obscure it.

"Wow! It's beautiful," she says.

"It gets better," says Yamcha looking at her rather than the sight above.

As the seconds pass, other colors besides white and black fill the sky with brilliant auras of electromagnetic radiation. It feels as if there is no separation between the Earth's atmosphere and the universe beyond it. Multicolored clouds of neon gas pass slowly before them drifting by the pull of gravity instead of air currents. The scene plays out like a shifting variegated marble.

"You've been able to see this for the past three weeks?" she says. "I'm jealous."

"Well now that you're up here too, you can see it every night," says Yamcha.

He leans back to rest on his own palms while Bulma continues to marvel upwards. He places the ends of his fingers on the tips of hers. Her body starts at the unexpected touch, but her fingers do not pull away. She looks down and then back at him with a smile. Then they both turn their heads to the sky once more as their hands join as one.


	18. Fruit of the Gods and a Tempting Offer

Goku strides to a stop in a circular garden on Snake Way. The path is covered in a giant soil clod that expands outward over heavenly clouds below. Trees grow in the richly brown earth and their entangled root system holds the soil bed together. The earthen heap runs deep enough to dip into the golden veil underneath. A fountain in the middle overflows with water to irrigate the area.

The trees seem rather short, not much taller than Goku. Their wide trunks and overhanging branches give them a mushroom shape. Fruits hang from each of the trees. They are a sickly pale orange with a withered oblong shape. Small bulbous nubs dot their otherwise smooth skin.

"Welcome to the garden of the Kaisss," says a soothing female voice hissing out the last syllable.

Goku looks around and spots a snake descending from one of the trees. It slithers its way to the ground until its human height length has fully left the tree. It slides side to side as its arm thick coils push it towards him. Goku thinks it vaguely resembles the appearance of Snake Way itself. The voice sounds again from the serpent even though its mouth does not move except for its forked tongue flicking in and out.

"Thessse sssacred treesss bear the fruit of the godsss for their consssumption," says the voice. "Come, won't you try one?"

"Hmm," says Goku. "I don't know. If it belongs to King Kai, then I don't have a right to eat one without permission."

Despite being dead, his stomach grumbles.

"Thessse fruitsss will keep you full for three monthsss," the snake says. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Oh boy am I," says Goku. "But I can wait until I meet King Kai. I'll ask for one then."

"If you wish to have hisss power and sssave your family and friendsss, you need only to eat of a fruit. Thisss is where their power comesss from after all."

"Really? They get their power by eating fruit, huh. That doesn't sound near as fun as training."

"But what if you don't have enough time to become ssstrong enough to defeat the Sssaiyansss? Who will sssave your family then? With a fruit of the Kaisss, you will have all the ssstrength you need."

"Are they really that powerful?"

"Yesss."

"Hmm."

As Goku thinks it over, his ki sense alerts him to a familiar presence.

"Oh no. He's back," says Goku turning around to look for the approaching enemy.

A violet aura surrounding his lookalike flies overhead landing on the opposite side of the fountain. The twisted alter ego glares at him through the spouting water. His ki pulses with menacing vibrations. While the armor he wears shows signs of damage, the rest of him seems unscathed from their last scuffle.

"I've finally caught up to you," says Kakarot. Despite the anger laced energy pouring out of him, his voice is calm. "I told you I was going to get my revenge."

"Don't you have anything better to do?" says Goku. "There's no reason for us to fight."

"Yes there is, a brand new one in fact. You've insulted my very identity. You've made me question whether or not I am just a copy, whether or not my memories are even true. If I'm not real, what am I? I can't be someone else's shadow. I won't. Only one of us can exist, and it needs to be me."

"You seem real enough to me. I'm sorry if your old memories are fake, but you can start over and make new ones. It won't be easy, but you can. Don't let anyone else tell you what you should be."

"Enough!" says Kakarot. Emotion finally breaks in his voice. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Once you're gone, I will finally be at peace."

Goku opens his mouth to argue the point, but the tailed Saiyan is already charging. He goes on the defensive dodging blow after blow. His opponent seems disheveled this time. The ki coming from him is erratic. It lacks focus making the attacks sluggish and imprecise. Goku sneaks in a low swinging punch to Kakarot's gut. The foe buckles over gargling air and wrapping his arms around his midsection.

"You need to calm down," says Goku. "You can't fight like this. You left your guard completely open. If I had hit you as hard as I could, you'd be dead, uh, deader I guess."

Goku's face screws up thinking about the implications of dying while already dead.

"Taunting me," Kakarot says. "I'll show you."

"No it wasn't a tau—,"

But Kakarot does not let him finish.

"Sadonsutomu!"

A barrage of violet orbs erupts in his face. He blasts off backwards in a white aura. From this position he can see every sphere shooting at him, though most of them fly off harmlessly. He weaves in and out of the few coming at him and fires some ki bolts of his own to deflect the trajectory of ones farther away. When the bombardment stops, he is high above the garden. His adversary appears exhausted. The armored warrior's arms hang limply as his mouth gasps for air.

"Welcome to the garden of the Kaisss," says a voice. Kakarot finds a snake slithering up to him. "Thessse sssacred treesss bear the fruit of the godsss and contain their power. Come, won't you try one?"

"You're saying I could have the power of a god just by eating one of these fruits?" says Kakarot.

"Yesss."

Kakarot turns his head back to the reflection of himself in the sky. He stares at the stern yet kind face he does not quite recognize as his own.

"Fine then. Maybe being a god will be more fun than being a Saiyan," he says to himself.

He dashes for the nearest tree. He leaps and snatches a fruit from its branches. For a moment, he looks at the unassuming thing wondering how it could possibly offer what the snake said. Movement above alerts him to the presence of Goku closing in to stop him. He hastily chomps into the fruit barely chewing before swallowing between bites. He eats the whole thing to make sure he gets all of its sustenance. It is bitter but satisfying.

Goku stops his descent as Kakarot begins to convulse with spasms. The arm and leg muscles of the tailed man expand in uneven distributions of mass leaving them with grotesque bulges. His armor also inflates as the torso beneath grows abnormally fast. Screaming follows each twitch as the body deforms before Goku's eyes.

The enlarged parts of Kakarot stop their unnatural growth as the other areas lacking such development begin to catch up. Eventually his body regains its symmetry and the screaming is replaced by laughter. His body is a size bigger than before, and Goku senses his ki has grown to match.

Kakarot's head snaps back to glare at his counterpart above. He claps his hands together in front of his chest so their fingers are pointed up and holds them for a moment. Orange electricity crackles around them. He pulls them apart starting from the wrists. An orange ring glows between his hands with sparks randomly arcing across its center. His arms rise above his head, and his hands bend behind it. He rips his limbs forward throwing the strange ki formation at his opponent.

Goku watches the ring approach with the hole facing him. He easily moves aside to let it pass by. Just before reaching him, it instantly expands to encircle him despite his evasive maneuver. Now within the perimeter of the ring, electricity shocks him as several bolts dance around the middle. Goku writhes and screeches as his flesh feels like it is being peeled back.

When the ring disappears, the torture lingers as his nerves continue to be assualted by leftover electricity. Before control is returned to his body, Kakarot rushes up to him. The aggressor delivers several uncontended punches to Goku's stomach and head. After the quick blitz, he falls to the dirt below smacking the hard packed soil.

"Ahahaha," laughs Kakarot. "This power is incredible. I've never felt so good. I wonder what would happen if I ate more."

He notices Goku struggling to his feet and drops down to the ground before him. Just when his enemy lifts his torso from a hunched position by pulling from the back, Kakarot strikes him across the face. He watches the man he now stands half a foot taller than hurtle backwards.

Goku slams against the trunk of a tree and bounces forward. Before he can fall down, Kakarot crushes a knee into his stomach slamming him back against the bark. Goku bends helplessly over the leg as his foe's raised hands form a double axe handle. The strike comes crashing down into his spine pounding him into the dirt once more.

"Sorry, that wasn't very sporting of me," says Kakarot. "You can have a turn. Here, let me help you up."

Goku feels the hair on the back of his head pulled as Kakarot lifts him off the ground. Despite the pain, he finds his fighting spirit which breaks outward as a powerful aura pushing his aggressor back. He uses the opening to twist backward and throw an elbow behind him. It is easily blocked, so he continues his spin with a swinging kick to fully face his foe. Kakarot dodges back to avoid it. Goku gives chase, but his adversary is always one step ahead. After a few minutes of fruitless pursuit, he stops to heave for air.

"Aw, tired already," Kakarot says. "Then allow me to end this."

The tailed Saiyan charges forward. He feints a punch at Goku's head who falls for it easily. With the arms of his opponent risen to expose the torso, he drops his fist to deliver a devastating shot to the gut. The strike lifts the receiver off the ground hunched over his hand. He opens his fingers and lets a ki ball explode.

Goku soars aloft propelled by the blast. Kakarot zooms past him in a spin. He backflips in midair and lands a kick on the helpless man. As Goku careens back to the ground, Kakarot whizs by him again. The armored warrior reaches the dirt first planting his feet. He then leaps with a raised knee catching his victim in the stomach in the same place as before. The combined forces of falling and the upward strike flattens Goku's organs. He rolls off the knee and flops on the ground. Kakarot stomps that same foot down into his ribs. The orange clad fighter nearly vomits at the blow, saliva spewing from his mouth. Kakarot aims his palm ready to fire a final blast.

"This is the end," says Kakarot. "I can't say I'll miss seeing your face though."

A violet gas begins to form around Kakaort's hand. Goku feels the boot press harder into his ribcage.

_I need to do something or I'll never get home to Chichi and Gohan, _he thinks.

He notices his enemy's tail whipping around behind him as energy materializes in the palm. If he could just grab hold of it, it might render his adversary immobile. But the furry appendage flicks erratically around just beyond his reach. A fully formed ki orb appears before him.

"You know," says Kakarot. "Even if I haven't actually destroyed Earth already, I know if I ever get out of here I'd love the experience of doing it again. Hopefully it would be as fun as I remember. Heh, heh, ahhhhh."

Kakarot freezes up as a numbing pain shoots up his tail and into his spine. It spreads across his body, and the ki blast he was forming fades away. He drops to his knees beside his foe and looks to his tail. Sure enough, a strong grip from Goku holds it tight.

"Why, you," he says before falling on his stomach next to his counterpart. His muscles have completely failed him now.

"You really are like me," says Goku. "I used to have this weakness too, but I worked hard to overcome it. I guess training does pay off and not having a tail isn't so bad."

He stands up with his left arm wrapped around his torso and his right hand still holding the tail firmly.

"What are you going to do now?" asks Kakarot. He cannot even turn his head to look at his opponent.

"Well I tried letting you go once. I can't afford to do that again," says Goku.

"No please, I've learned my lesson. You're right, both of us can coexist, so please let me go, and I'll never bother you again," Kakarot says.

For a moment, Goku's sympathetic nature takes hold of him. He really does not want to pass judgement on someone he knows nothing about. He believes in second chances, otherwise how will anyone ever be able to change or improve?

_Don't get soft on me and hold back like you've done with past enemies, _Piccolo's voice lectures against his intrinsic beliefs. _Remember your son. He needs to be stopped with any force or means necessary._

Goku clenches his teeth reflecting on these words. Then he begins dragging Kakarot by the tail towards the edge of the garden.

"Where are you taking me?" says Kakaort. "Please, it hurts. Just let me go."

Suddenly he is being hung over the golden clouds obscuring Hell below.

"No, not that. I'm sorry. I'll do anything. Anything you want. I'll change my ways. I, I, I'll help you defend Earth. I'll protect your family and friends. Anything!"

For a moment nothing happens. He wonders if his cries for mercy worked.

"I'm sorry," says Goku placing his left hand over his opponent's back just above his tail.

"No. Don't do th—"

Kakarot feels the heat of a ki blast through his armor as the impact and bang of an explosion drive him into the yellow fog. His vision hazes from a heavenly glow to a jaundice yellow and finally to a deathly black as the light above fades.

Goku continues to watch long after his enemy has been absorbed by the veil to make sure he does not return. When he finally relents that he cannot stand there forever, he turns to leave still not convinced he will never see the strange man again. It is only then that he notices the tail still gripped tightly between his palm and fingers no longer attached to its owner. He drops it and flexes his cramping hand. Deep purple indents from his fingernails are pressed into the base of his palm.

"Now that you have ssseen itsss power, will you eat of the fruit?" says the snake.

Goku looks into the branches of the trees to see their bountiful offerings.

"No," he says.

He strides off despite the pain and exhaustion just wanting to get as far away from this horrid place as possible. He sets foot on Snake Way once again to resume his journey.


	19. Piccolo's Inner Demon

Piccolo hovers in the air sitting in a cross-legged position. The fingertips of both hands touch and rest in his lap. His breaths are slow and deep. The turban and cape that usually adorn his head and shoulders lie on the ground below. Dawn breaks over the horizon. He descends to the Earth and uncurls his legs so his feet touch down on the arid soil.

He inhales deeply one more time before separating into two beings. His body flashes brightly for a moment and a clone walks straight out of him. After a few paces, it turns to face him. The two standoff looking each other over. They feel out one another's ki and the intentions behind its purpose.

"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish by bringing me here when you haven't settled anything within yourself," says the second Piccolo.

"This is how I'm going to resolve it," says the first. "The two parts of myself at war over how to proceed with my future will battle for supremacy."

"So the one who wins will assimilate the other? I like it," the second says.

The double sizes up the amount of ki it has as a strategy formulates.

_I'll need to ration my energy,_ it thinks. _Since our ki is divided between us, I just need to come out of every exchange with a little more of it. Eventually there will be a point that he runs out while I have a fraction left to win with._

It smiles and says, "shall we begin?"

They dash together, stop, and dart to their rights strafing each other. They both fire white hot lasers from their eyes hoping to catch their opponents by surprise. Dodging around the attacks, they clamp hands together and lock into a battle of might.

Piccolo attempts to sweep his enemy's legs with his right one. The clone responds by hopping and twisting sideways to angle over the low kick. It digs its nails into the back of Piccolo's hands and pulls him forward. With the foe off balance, it drives a kick into his ribs. It feels the cartilage bow beneath the strike.

Piccolo fires two tiny ki blasts from each hand to break free and gains some distance. He rubs his side where he was struck. His twin grins knowing it got the better of that ordeal.

"You can't win. You know that right?" says the double. "My resolve is absolute. All of my actions are aligned with the singular goal of getting revenge on Goku. You don't have any idea what you want."

"You think that, but you misunderstand," says Piccolo. "It's true I don't know what I want to do yet, but I know I want to choose it for myself. It's unnerving, but I won't live under someone else's expectations. And my focus is centered on that.

"Besides, you have yet to answer the question of what you will do after you get your revenge. What is your purpose in life then? I'm already prepared to face that reality while you are not."

Piccolo senses his enemy's ki deflate a little at the imposing question. He flexes his arms while lowering his center of gravity. His aura floods forth in a cascade of energy.

"Now bring it on!" he says.

He fires a ki bolt. The copy easily steps aside as Piccolo launches another. The double smirks and skips around it before tripping over something at its feet. Looking down reveals a hand popping up from underground holding its ankle. The shots acted only as a distraction to divert its attention while Piccolo slipped an elongated arm through the earth out of sight.

Piccolo whips up on his left arm tearing up the ground along the path of the tunnel his hand formed to reach his adversary. The limb retracts yanking the double's leg out from under it and reeling it in. The twin slides along the ground as Piccolo lunges forward with a raised fist. When the two meet, he drives a punch downward into the foe's abdomen inflicting a crater upon the dense dirt below it. The clone's eyes roll back in its head as a yellow mucus squelches from its mouth.

The doppelganger tries for a kick, but Piccolo merely levitates upwards while summoning yellow orbs to his hands. He unleashes a rain of palm sized spheres to batter the vulnerable target. Debris breaks free with each impact smothering the area in a dust cloud. Piccolo lands some distance away sensing out his opponent.

To his surprise, he feels no sign of its existence. Knowing that last attack was not lethal, he prepares for a stealth tactic from his ki suppressing foe. A life force flares into being and the copy rushes straight at him from the thinning cloud. He charges to meet the enemy head on.

Piccolo pulls back his right arm at his side with the fingers and their sharp nails pointed at the assailant. As he runs in, he thrusts it like a spear to impale his target. Unexpectedly, the foe makes no attempt to dodge or defend. Instead, his arm shoots through the double's chest who actually takes one more step towards him despite the arm sliding further through its body. The twin wraps its arms around his torso and free arm while the other is shoulder deep in its chest cavity.

As Piccolo struggles with the strange grapple, he sees an orange spark within what remains of the dust cloud. A second clone is preparing a Makankosappo! He starts to knee the person restricting his movement while simultaneously trying to move to avoid being a sitting target. He can neither get the mimic to loosen its grip nor move fast enough in any direction for it to matter.

"Prepare to die!" shouts the clone charging the attack. "I know this attack was meant for Goku, but it seems fitting to use it now."

It raises its index and middle finger where the technique is stored and shoves them at Piccolo. An orange and purple beam with a second spiraling around it tears through the air at him and the sacrificial pawn. It drills into the back of the copy holding him right before doing the same to his chest. The unblockable concentration of ki rips clean across them without any resistance. They flop lifelessly to the ground one after another, smoking holes in their bodies running from waist to shoulders.

The clone who fired the beam walks over to check its victims. It stands next to the second self it made which is not breathing. It places a foot upon its shoulder, and the body fades away returning what little life force remains to its owner. It then steps over to Piccolo who is hacking and writhing from the wound.

"Looks like we'll be doing things my way from now on," it says. It crouchs and reaches out a hand to place upon him. "Don't worry, I'll finish what you couldn't."

To its shock, Piccolo snatches his wrist out of the air. The gaping hole in his torso begins to regenerate slowly from the edges inward.

"No thanks. I think I'll keep my body."

"What! What is this?" says the copy straining to get its arm back. "You shouldn't have enough ki to regenerate from that attack. We should have been nearly even after the first two bouts, and the Makankosappo should have done more damage to you than it took me ki to use. So your life force should be lower than mine!"

"If we had the same amount of ki, you'd be right," says Piccolo sitting up as the last of his abdomen fills in. "But we don't."

"What do you mean? Whenever you divide, your ki is evenly split between the original and any copies."

"It usually does, but when I summoned you this time, I purposely shorted you ki and kept the rest for myself."

"You cheated!"

"I like to call it hedging my bets. Thanks for the training session, but I'll take it from here."

He grabs hold of his clone's forehead. He feels it resist his attempt to merge their spirits back together.

"Wait. You can't do this without me. Everyone else hates you. You don't belong anywhere. You need to complete the Demon King's goal. You are nothing without it."

Piccolo drops eye contact with his other half. He searches the ground for answers as the words fill him with doubt. He closes his eyes and inhales through his nostrils. When he opens them, he looks the clone straight in the eye.

"If all those things are true, then they will still be true even if I kill Goku for good and take over the planet," he says. "I'm tired of living a life where I don't listen to myself and make my own choices. I know I'll face new fears and pain because of it, but I cannot bear this burden any longer. I need change. I don't care if this is the wrong decision because the stress I already experience every day needs to stop. And I'll do anything at this point to make it. And it starts with you."

Piccolo intensifies the intrusion of his spirit into the body of his clone who continues to push back. He feels his spirit filter in like water finding its way through the tiny cracks of an otherwise solid rock. Eventually his excess ki erodes the barrier from within as it enlarges the little fractures until they begin to merge with each other into one connected channel. The clone flashes a bright white and begins to scream. Its body loses corporealness as it takes a gaseous form. Now an apparition, its spirit flows into Piccolo and disappears.

For once, the critical voice of the past five years since the tournament is silent. It does not whisper insecurities from his subconscious nor scream self-loathing statements in his ear. His mind is clear and the day seems bright.

…

Gohan and the dragon he helped hatch walk back to a cave for the evening. They carry gourds full of sloshing water and berries piled high on bark platters. Dried juices stick to his smiling face.

"Who would have thought those coarse, prickly plants we saw would flower so beautifully," he says. "I've only ever read about how desolate parts of the world like this are, but people need to appreciate the hidden beauty before judging it. Though I used to hate this place too I guess."

The dragon chirps happily.

"You think so too, huh Icarus?"

The dragon chirps a couple more times.

"Well let's eat our haul and get some sleep."

Gohan starts a fire in the cave, they eat their food, and then curl up together before dozing off. Finally relaxed after his ordeals on the mountaintop, he dreams of flying around the world on Icarus.

His fluid consciousness is invaded by a soft thump followed by another and then another. Each one louder than the last. The noise seems to follow him like heavy footfalls closing in. He rouses groggily from his slumber to find the noise more than just a nightly hallucination. A scuffling sound fills the cave as whatever approaches him drags its large feet with every step. Random clinks of metal against metal echo from around the bend leading to the mouth of the cave.

Gohan trembles with paralyzing fear. He looks to Icarus who is still peacefully asleep. Despite the fear constricting his mind, his body knows what to do and meekly crawls towards a boulder deeper into the cave. After barely getting passed it, his body collapses into a half roll behind it just as whatever is stalking them steps into view.

A giant tiger standing on its hind legs and clad in armor nearly fills the circular tunnel. At its side is a viciously curved blade too big for any human to wield. The mouth of the beast drops open full of saliva. The predator shuffles over to Icarus and reaches for the dragon with a hefty paw.

Its retractable claws glide out of their furry sheaths as the fingers drape around the back of Icarus' neck. One of the sharp nails gently slides around the dragon's throat before the paw forcefully latches down. Gohan watches motionlessly. His lungs do not breathe, and his eyes do not blink.

Icarus screeches in horror as he is lifted off the ground.

"It's my lucky day," says the tiger. Its voice is deep and growly. "I haven't had dragon in a long time."

The tiger turns to leave not even bothering to check for anything else. Gohan continues to stare as his new friend is taken away squirming against the abduction. Icarus spots him in a frantic search for help. He chirps for assistance. His eyes tear up with fear. Gohan still does not move. The tiger begins to round the turn with each step obscuring more and more of its rotund mass.

"I'm sorry Icarus," whispers Gohan. "I'm not a hero like my dad. I don't want to be a fighter. I want to be a scholar like my mom wants me to be."

"Stop struggling," says the beast.

It slams Icarus' head against the wall. A patch of blood forms there and begins to run down his face.

Gohan's long, unkempt hair begins to bristle upward. His fingers dig into the stone floor as they curl into fists leaving tiny furrows. Before he knows it, he has jumped out to stand behind the tiger. His breaths are heavy and his nostrils flared.

"Leave my friend alone!" he says.

The tiger stops and turns its head on a swiveling neck. Its eyes narrow at the sight of the tiny child.

"What do we have here? An appetizer?" it says.

Gohan charges. A swiping paw bats him aside.

"A weakling like you can't do anything against an apex predator like me."

Gohan rushes in again with the same result.

"I'll tell you what, if this dragon means that much to you, I'll give you a chance to rescue it."

The beast drops a dizzy Icarus to the ground and steps on his head with an unarmored foot. No need for protection when the paw is another potential weapon. Icarus squeals as pressure is applied.

"Stop it!" says Gohan.

The tiger leans forward pressing harder on the dragon's skull. Icarus squeals louder, his voice filling the space with anguished cries.

"I SAID STOP IT!"

"Or what? Are you going to stop me little man? I can smell your fear. Your anger may be putting up a show for the moment, but deep down you're a coward. You'll run away before risking your life against me. Unfortunately for you, you won't get the chance."

"I'm-I'm not a coward. I-I just don't like fighting," says Gohan. His hair begins to settle back into place

"Is that right?" says the tiger. It rests a forearm on the thigh crushing down on Icarus. The dragon's pained screeches smother beneath the big paw. "Well you may have convinced yourself that you stand for some higher moral purpose, but I know a coward when I meet one. And honestly, eating cowards gives me indigestion. So you can just wallow here with the shame of your pitiful fear."

Gohan looks to the ground grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. The tiger laughs triumphantly. Tears begin to drop from the boy's cheeks. He drops to his knees, his hands unclench and flatten on the ground. The beast removes his foot from a now unconscious Icarus and picks the dragon back up. It turns around to leave once again. Its laughs bounce about as it heads for the exit.

"If being a coward means I can't save the people I care about," says Gohan, "then I won't be a coward anymore. I won't."

He forms a fist and hammers it against the rocky floor.

"I won't!"

He smashes the bottom of his fist against the hard surface again.

"I WON'T!"

Again his hand crashes down. Cracks break open the stone and fill with blood from the bruising act.

Outside the cave, the tiger drags Icarus along the ground as it walks. A gust of wind blows passed the predator causing it to shutter and squint at the kicked up dust. When it opens its eyes, the tiger sees another dragon lying some distance ahead. The boy from the cave stands next to it stroking a hand along its neck. The feline warrior looks down at its empty hand which should be holding the delicious meal.

"How did he…" says the tiger.

Gohan stops caressing his friend and shoots a leer at the tiger. Something in his eyes forces the beast a step back and to reach for the sword at its hip. Its top lip curls up in a snarl.

_There's no fear in him anymore. What's changed?_ the cat thinks. It draws the blade. "I wasn't going to kill you, but now you've pissed me off."

"You hurt my friend," says Gohan flatly. "You're going to pay."

The tiger's sensitive eyes instinctively follow the movement of the boy as he darts in with only a few leaping steps to close the distance. Before the beast can even swing the weapon, a gut wrenching pain stabs through the armor and into its abdomen. The warrior's spine curves away from the force transferring through its body from the strike. On its back, the cat struggles to lift its head and look upon the child.

"Runaway and never let me see you again," says Gohan.

The tiger does not hesitate to follow orders. It rolls over and scampers away on all fours, tail between its legs. When the animal is no longer in sight, Gohan brings Icarus back to the cave to tend to his injuries.

High above, Piccolo watches all as a silent spectator.

"So he finally found his fighting spirit," he says. "He's Goku's son after all. A little too much like him. Well, there's still time to fix that. You better get a good night's sleep Gohan because the real training begins tomorrow."


	20. The Morning Star

Yamcha stands outside the Capsule Corporation headquarters building. A greedy smile spreads across his face as his green shirt and the orange bandana around his neck flutter in a gentle breeze. The big kanji in the middle of his chest meaning 'easy comfort' ripples with the wind. An assault rifle hangs by a strap from his shoulder.

"So this is the kind of place those stuck-up Briefs live in," he says. "After this, we'll be the ones living in luxury. Let's go Puar."

He walks along the paved path across the lawn with a cat hovering in the air behind him. The sounds of conversation and laughter from behind the building draw him away from the front door. Pressed against the wall, he peers around the curvature of the round structure to find a lunch party.

An older gentleman with fading blue hair and a white mustache sits in a lawn chair alongside a middle-aged blonde in a tube top. Sitting at a folding table nearby is a young woman about his own age. She is beautiful, and on any other occasion, he would be quite smitten with her. But now is not the time to be a womanizer. He is here for a job.

"Alright!" he says loudly stepping out from his vantage place and pointing the rifle muzzle at them. "Hands where I can see them."

Disorder sets in for a moment as the three realize how dramatically their family lunch has turned from its relaxing setting. Their faces contort through a series of horrified expressions as they process the sudden shift.

"Who are—" the older man says finally finding his words. Yamcha interrupts him immediately.

"No talking. I'm just here for your money. Take me to your safe where you keep it and no one will get hurt."

"But—" the old man tries again with the same result.

"Now! All three of you start walking inside. Stay together and no funny business."

The three do as they are told, and Yamcha follows leaving some distance between them and the gun he aims. They head inside and down a set of stairs to a basement level. Yamcha hears whispering from the old man to the two women directly ahead of him.

"No talking or I'll shoot," Yamcha says.

They come to the end of the hall where they can go right or left. The man suddenly darts forward passed the women down the left hallway. Yamcha springs forward to get around the corner. The man is barely ten yards away as Yamcha opens fire. The spread of bullets fills the corridor with a dozen of them finding a place in the target's back. Blood and cloth rip away from him as he falls to the floor.

"Stupid old man," Yamcha says to himself.

He turns around to see the women running back the way they came.

"Stop!" he says raising the weapon.

The older lady twists her head to get eyes on him. When she sees the gun pointed at them, she instinctively moves behind her daughter. The bullets fly and her body spasms before falling forward. She lands on her daughter as they collapse to the floor.

The young woman stares in shock at the dead body upon her. She struggles out from under it to continue running.

"I guess it's going to be a no survivors kind of day," says Yamcha pulling the trigger one more time. The gun makes a few empty clicks. "Hmm, looks like I'll have to finish this the old fashioned way."

He takes a stance raising his hands like the paws of an animal ready to strike. Pouncing across the tiled floor like a wolf after prey, he swiftly moves in.

"Rogafufuken," he says laying his hands into the last family member.

She is ripped to shreds by his palms and fingers leaving her mutilated on the ground. He looks at her untouched face only marred by the spatter of blood.

"It's a real shame. She was a good looking girl."

A bit of empathy almost cracks through before his greedy desires wash it away.

"Come on Puar. Let's find that safe."

Yamcha stiffens into a sitting position. He is on a bed in a tiny one room Capsule house Bulma set up on Kami's palace. He frantically throws back the blanket covering the woman sleeping next to him. Her body is intact with no signs of physical trauma. He cups his hands on his face for a moment, breathing into them. They run up his scalp and down the back of his head. He lies down but cannot get back to sleep.

…

Krillin is twelve years old again at the Orin Temple where he trained as a child. He looks down at his feet as his fellow monks stand over him.

"Why are you even here?"

"You're just a weakling and a coward."

"Aw, is little Krillin going to cry again."

The familiar voices of his childhood bullies batter him worse than any of their sparring punches. Then he hears a voice he does not expect.

"You'll never be strong enough to fight the Saiyans."

Krillin dares to lift his head to confirm who spoke. He looks passed the three faces of his bullies with their incense burned foreheads. Behind them stands Tien with all three of his eyes glaring at him. The group begins laughing. Krillin spins around and runs away. The sound of footsteps chases after him.

"You've spent all this time training to be faster and stronger and all you want to do with it is run away," Tien says from behind. "You pretend it's for defending your friends but really you're just hoping to survive one more pathetic day of your life."

"Shut up," says Krillin with the shrill voice of a child.

"Remember when you ran from Orin Temple to find Master Roshi. You told yourself it was to become stronger but really it was because you couldn't stand up to the other monks.

"And then you met Goku who you thought was just some punk from backwater nowhere. You assumed your time at the temple would mean you were much better than he was. But you were wrong. A simpleton living in the wild ended up being stronger than you. You've never measured up to Goku and you never will. You couldn't beat Piccolo or the alien and fighting the Saiyans will be no different. You're a loser. You always have been and you always will be."

Krillin looks over his shoulder at his pursuers. The incense burns on the foreheads of the three monks bulge and rip open as eyes blink into existence. Tien and the others laugh hysterically as they all deform into amalgamations of all the monsters he has fought in the past.

He tries to run faster, but the more effort he puts into it, the slower his legs seem to move. An unseen resistance grips his legs bringing him to a crawl as the monsters close in. His steps become shorter and shorter with his legs refusing to extend to their full length. The horrific things pile on top of him.

Krillin wakes with sweat running down his forehead across his six incense burns. He searches for any signs of the monsters and makes sure Tien is still asleep where he went to bed.

…

Tien watches from within himself as his body acts of its own accord. He wills his mind to take control and stop the horrors his physical self is wreaking on the innocents around him. Again and again he points at one person after another. Each time a Dodonpa shoots out of his finger and pierces straight through every victim killing them instantly.

He follows a woman and her son into a clothing store. He stalks after them at a casual pace as she flees for her life, child in her arms. She is nowhere to be seen among the racks of shirts and pants. From inside his mind, Tien can feel his body sensing out their life force. He tries to interfere with the process, tries to scramble the incoming sensory information. He detects their presence and slowing zeros in on it. Despite his best efforts to stop, he cannot prevent himself from doing the now innate technique. It is like trying not think about something when someone tells you not to think about it. It just gets harder and harder until the thought finally emerges into your consciousness.

He puts it off for as long as he can, but inevitably pinpoints their location. His body moves towards them. He knocks aside a wooden shelving unit the mother and son are behind. She screams and runs still holding her child. He raises his hand and points at her as she moves in a straight line for the back door.

"No!" he yells but unable to get the word to escape his mental prison.

A Dodonpa fires from the end of his finger, and the laser slices clean through her back and into the child clutched to her breast. They fall to the floor in a heap of their own clothing. He feels the last of their energy fade away.

"Heh, heh," his body begins to laugh. "Ahahaha."

A maniacal laughing takes hold of him. He cannot stop himself from indulging in the sick gratification of such a violent act. From the peripheral of his vision, he sees a mirror. His reflection reveals a chilling appearance. A long braided ponytail hangs from the back of his otherwise bald head. He also wears a familiar pink chang pao with black sleeves over his body. The symbol for 'kill' is written across the left side of his chest.

The laughing does not stop as it follows him into his waking consciousness. Tien sits up from the simple mat he rests upon on Kami's palace. Krillin is standing nearby and jumps back a couple yards at his sudden awakening.

…

Chiaotzu pursues a group of screaming teenagers through a series of rickety and rotting wooden hallways. His body is rigid and cold with his arms stretched straight out before him. He is only able to move in this stiff standing position by means of levitation. He does not make a sound as he hovers atop the creaky floorboards while the teenagers thunder across them.

One of the adolescents catches his foot on a nail sticking up. He tumbles to the floor. The others look back for a moment but Chiaotzu is already upon the fallen victim. His dead eyes stare unblinkingly in their dried out sockets. The boy screams as the tiny pair of bloodless white hands from the small levitating man grab the sides of his face.

His screaming intensifies as a light green aura appears around his body and begins to flow up the arms of the floating corpse. The boy ages rapidly. His skin wrinkles and his hair turns white starting from the end of each strand and working down to his scalp. The leathery flesh tightens against the bones beneath.

The victim withers away to a skin covered skeleton in clothes now too large to fit. The rest of the teenagers hurry off in confused shouts about which hallway to turn down. Chiaotzu bobs through the air after them, his arms still outstretched to feed on the next source of vitality.

Chiaotzu opens his eyes to find himself floating in his sleep. He quickly checks his pulse and shivers off the cold from his nightmare. He twists himself upright from his horizontal orientation and sees Tien and Krillin facing off. Yamcha steps out of Capsule room he went to bed in.

…

"What are you guys all doing up?" says Yamcha looking at this three comrades. "You're not training are you? The sun won't rise for another couple of hours."

"I, uh, was just doing some early morning meditations," says Krillin.

"Then what were you doing so close to me?" says Tien.

"Oh sorry, did I wake you up?" says Krillin.

"Yeah, I guess so," says Tien. He looks at Chiaotzu who floats down to his side.

_What scared you so bad?_ says Chiaotzu telepathically to Tien.

_Nothing, just a strange dream._

_Yeah me too._

They look at one another for a moment longer sensing out each other's feelings.

"You boys sure are noisy," says Bulma through a yawn. She steps out from behind the door to her Capsule room.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," says Yamcha.

"That's okay. You were tossing and turning all night, so I was sleeping pretty lightly," she says. She yawns again and examines the night sky. "Hmm, I knew it."

"Knew what?" says Yamcha.

"Haven't you noticed? You guys have been up here longer than I have."

"Noticed what?" says Krillin.

"The moon," she says. "It's missing. It should be nearly full tonight if I'm not mistaken."

"You're right as usual," says Kami. The five of them turn to see him standing before his temple not far away.

_Does this guy ever sleep? _thinks Bulma.

"I removed it as a precaution for the arrival of the Saiyans," Kami continues. "After observing Goku's transformations during full moons of the past, I only agreed to put it back in the first place if he was willing to part with his tail. Now that more Saiyans may wish to use it against us, I decided to remove it once again."

"So Goku knows about his transformations? We always tried to keep them secret from him," says Bulma.

"No. He is still unaware of them," Kami says. "But now that he has a son with a tail, I had been meaning to remove either the moon or Gohan's tail. Circumstances dictated the former."

"Speaking of tails," says Yamcha. "Goku's was always a weakness for him. Whenever someone grabbed it, he would lose all his strength. We may be able to use that against our enemies."

"I don't know about that Yamcha," says Krillin. "Remember when I fought him in the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament? I tried to win by grabbing his tail, but he trained himself to no longer be affected by it. I think we should assume these new Saiyans have done the same given how much stronger they are."

"That's a good point I guess," says Yamcha.

"Well that settles that then," Bulma says. "But I have one more question. Since you seem to have influence over planetary bodies around Earth, can you tell us what that thing is?"

She points to a blood red dot now the biggest object in the night sky with the moon gone.

"My dad has been observing it but can't figure out what's bringing it closer to Earth. He says it's a planet, but no planet should behave the way it does."

"Ah yes, the Makyo Star," says Kami staring at the faint crimson glow. "None of you would have been alive three or four hundred years ago when it last came by Earth. Technology wasn't advanced enough yet either for it to be perceived as anything other than a superstitious event now noted in many mythologies around the world. But I can assure you it's a perfectly normal occurrence."

"So there's nothing to worry about?" says Bulma. "It's not going to crash into Earth or anything? Because it has defied all of my dad's attempts to predict its movement. The only certainty he has is that it's heading towards us."

"No. It won't crash into Earth," says Kami. His eyes never leave the object in question. "But I do have a secret weapon you can all use against the Saiyans. Bulma's insight into their scouter technology has inspired the idea and since you're all up so early, we can begin now."

"Really? What's that?" says Krillin. He cannot hide his enthusiasm at the news.

"The scouter devices our enemies use are able to locate and measure what they refer to as power levels, or as we call it, ki," says Kami. "I want you all to become masters of suppressing your ki to both avoid detection and be able to surprise them with unexpected power they are unaware of."

"So you think we could completely hide ourselves from the Saiyans?" says Killin. His smile turns into a toothy grin.

"If you can fully master this technique, then yes. Otherwise you will merely be blending in with the lifeforms around you by lowering your ki to their level. As an added bonus, this training will greatly improve your ki control as you learn to transfer it faster and faster between its passive and active states."

"Right on," says Krillin. "A two for one deal."

"To begin with," says Kami, "I want the four of you to lower your active ki as quickly as you can while Bulma measures the speed at which you do it."

"Okay let me get my equipment," says Bulma.

After she has set up a stand for a laptop and a tripod with a radar gun type deceive on it, she asks the warriors to stand across from her. She gives them the okay, and the four of them close their eyes to focus on their life forces. The computer screen starts to show some readings from the radar gun. Krillin's ki lowers the fastest while Yamcha's is the slowest.

"Come on Yamcha, you can do it," says Bulma. "Try to go a little faster."

His face changes from a calm expression to one wrinkled in agitation.

Bulma watches as all the numbers slow down to a stop. Tien's is the lowest followed by Krillin and Chiaotzu. All three are reading around a quarter of their max power levels. Yamcha, however, is still over half of his.

"Okay, Yamcha try to go lower," says Bulma.

"I'm trying if you would just let me concentrate," he says. His face contorts even more.

"You're still hovering around the same number. Can you try something else."

"No alright, I can't! That's as good as it gets."

"Don't snap at me!"

"Well don't expect me to be good at something I've never done before."

"I was trying to encourage you."

"Yeah well it's not helping. So can you keep your comments to yourself?"

"Oh, pardon me if I don't want to see you die in a few months because I didn't do everything I could to help."

Bulma stomps away swearing something under her breath. Yamcha crosses his arms and turns his back to her.

"Obviously this will take some time to get used to," says Kami.

"Honestly it seems like a waste of time," says Yamcha jerking his head to look at the Guardian. "We should be working on getting stronger not purposefully weakening ourselves. I mean so what if we can lower our ki. Won't we just need to bring it back out again?"

"You're right. And being able to do that quickly will also be part of the training," says Kami.

He pauses for a moment but his pupil's frustration does not subside.

"Would you like a moment to speak with Bulma before we continue?"

Yamcha's eyes soften as they find their way to Bulma who is slamming the door to her Capsule room.

"No, it's fine," he says. " Let's keep going for now."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I haven't really discussed story arcs before, but this chapter to me marks the beginning of a new arc for our heroes! I am calling chapters 1-8 the Cui Arc and chapters 9-19 the Training Arc. For those of you who have enjoyed the extra attention I have given the actual preparation for the Saiyans, don't worry, there is still a little more of it to go. But from here on out, the way it connects to the story will be different. Chapters 9-19 have all been about how ki works in my version of the Dragon Ball world and developing character motivations. I won't name the new arc just yet, but I'm sure many of you know where we're going next. I'll see you in the next chapter. Take care!

**Author's Note #2 02/15/20:** This note is only for my readers who have read through chapter 18 before this chapter goes up. Some of you pointed out to me that it felt like an inconsistency for Kakarot to have the tail weakness when Goku didn't anymore. And the truth is I didn't provide enough context in chapter 15 or 18 for it to make sense. Because this is a topic I address in this chapter (and probably future chapters involving Saiyan tails), I have made some dialogue changes to chapters 15 and 18 as of posting this chapter.

During the first conversation between Goku and Kakarot in chapter 15, I added some new lines of dialogue. And during their final conversation in chapter 18, I changed one line of dialogue. If you don't want to reread those chapters for just a few different sentences, the explanation is simply this: Kakarot only believes in getting stronger through fighting not training and so would never have trained his weakness away like Goku did during Dragon Ball.

Sorry for the confusion and having to fix it. And a big thank you to all of my readers, especially those who provide feedback like this. I want to be a better writer and could not do that without your input. Whether it is encouragement that keeps me motivated or critiques that help identify what I need to work on, your thoughts and comments push me towards that goal. Thank you all so much!


	21. The God Beyond the Serpent

Goku nurses his still ailing ribs and bruised abdominal organs while trotting at a ginger pace along Snake Way. Though the pain slows him, it does not impede him as much as the steadily increasing incline of the path. After leaving the garden, it crept in so slowly he did not notice until suddenly only the balls of his feet touched the path leaving his heels to hang out in the air.

By this point, he is pretty sure another three or four weeks have gone by, and he has covered as much distance vertically as he has horizontally. The only thing keeping his spirits up against the demanding trek is the sight of a mountain Snake Way seems to be taking him to the peak of. When it first appeared on the horizon, it looked like no more than the trick of a tiny mirage. But now, it consumes his entire view, rising above the golden clouds now far below.

He drags one more exhausted leg through the motion of stepping up stairs. It slips back behind him sliding down the near vertical face of the path. His face almost smacks the pavement in front of it as his hands and feet flail outward to stop his fall. They find the ridges protruding from either side of what was once a walkway. He hangs for a moment before continuing the journey as a climb.

It is an awkward ascent as the road is more than shoulder width apart, but he continues reaching his arms over his head and pushing off from his legs using the spines as hand and footholds. Flashbacks to the climb up Korin's Tower plague his mind. If this is not the final stretch of Snake Way, he will truly despair at the pointlessness of it all.

His sides throb with every reach of the arms. His legs burn every time they push his body up another inch. Worry of his stamina giving out fills his thoughts. Though if he did fall, the foggy veil to Hell is now so far away he would probably get enough time to rest for a few moments of flight and land somewhat safely.

He stops to let his numb arms hang and fill back up with blood. He cannot wait too long though as his legs strain with the burden of holding his weight. He presses on for the next uncountable plethora of yards.

Without watching as his body goes through the monotonous motions of climbing, his hand grabs for the next ridge but only finds air. He looks up to see Snake Way bending around a curve. He wriggles his body up to the flattened out path.

As his head comes over the top, he rests his chin on the renewed walkway. He looks down it to see it go straight towards the mountain. Excited to possibly be at the end, he stretches his hands along the structure letting his arms rest on the stone.

He grabs two more spines and slowly works himself over the hump. He slithers across the surface with his belly pressed against it until his toes slip over the edge joining the rest of him. He lies there breathing heavily with small sobs of laughter between every other breath. He finally pushes himself to his feet and staggers along the next length of Snake Way.

And then it happens. He finally sees the end of his purgatory sentence.

The path begins to narrow as the body of the serpent comes to the point of a tail. Goku feels uneasy on his unsteady legs as the edges close in on him. When the road is exactly shoulder width wide, he holds his arms out as if walking a tightrope to comfort him in the precarious situation.

The spiked ridges finally circle around to meet in front of him as Snake Way formally ends. He stands a little above and apart from a gently curving plateau capping off the mountain. The green of the grass covering it seems so incredibly vibrant after being subjected to yellow and gray for a couple months. It practically blinds him with an ostensibly neon glow.

The only thing between him and the edge of the mountain is a three foot gap. What should normally be an elongated step feels like a perilous opening ready to swallow up all of the effort it took to arrive here. If he falls now, the sheer face of the mountain offers nothing to grab ahold of. Even flying the few feet between seems impossible given the heavy fatigue weighing down his body.

Goku eases a leg across the gap keeping all of his weight on his back foot. He taps the grass with his toe to make absolutely certain there is solid ground that will bear his weight. When it sits safely on the other side, he pushes off his back foot with all his remaining strength. He stumbles forward almost falling sideways down the gap. His arms windmill as he wobbles ahead. Both feet make it to the plateau but cannot keep up with his torso. He crashes to the ground and slides to a stop.

He nestles his face in the grass while running his fingers through it. Droplets form at the corners of his eyes. His breaths half laugh and half cry. After eight or nine straight weeks traversing a bridge over Hell, having land instead of clouds beneath him is the greatest relief he has ever experienced.

"Welcome Goku. I've been expecting you."

Goku looks around wondering who spoke. A pair of sunglasses on a light blue face stares at him. The person they belong to stands with his arms behind his back. A long sleeved, red undergarment pokes out of the formal uniform the strange man wears. The uniform is a single piece that stretches over his round body. It flaps openly at the ankles so Goku can see his shoes. The shoulders of the outfit stick out rigidly.

A weird black hat covers his head. It is so thin there appears to be no separation between it and his scalp. Two long strands above each eye curve upward from the base of the hat before drooping down far in front of his forehead.

"Are you King Kai?" says Goku.

The antennas twitch at the name. Goku's head recoils on his neck at the sight of them moving on their own. Apparently they are real and not just part of the hat. And what he thought was a hat could very well be the top of his head.

"If I'm not King Kai, I shouldn't be wearing this symbol," says the man.

Goku looks at the giant kanji on the man's chest reading 'World King.' The man grins. Goku straightens up on his knees and gives a little bow.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've come to study under you if you'd be willing to take me on as a pupil," says Goku.

"Then it's your lucky day," says King Kai. "You've been my pupil for quite a long time now."

The short blue man's cheeks rumple up in a smile.

"Whaddya mean?" says Goku.

King Kai snaps his fingers leaving his index finger pointing at Snake Way. Goku follows the gesture. His eyes and mouth gape open as the leviathan structure fades away into the air.

"Whe-where did it go?"

His words are hysterical as all of his hard work disappears.

"It didn't go anywhere. It was never really there. I can make it as long or short as I see fit." says King Kai. "Pretty clever right?"

"You-you mean I wasted all that time for no reason?"

"It wasn't a waste. Think of it as an aptitude test for your training."

"A test?"

"Yes. I won't train just anyone in my secret arts. It would be irresponsible to teach such great power to someone who would misuse it."

"So you were testing to see if I was worthy?"

"Nothing so simple as that. Anyone looking to improve themselves or their situations is worthy of help. If I can provide the right kind of help, I will. If not, the person searching for it must find it elsewhere.

"You see Goku, I have incredible telepathic abilities. And I use these abilities to discover if those seeking my training will truly benefit from it. But even I cannot always read the most closely guarded motives of a person's mind. Especially when some intentions only exist subconsciously to a person who is completely unaware they even have them. Snake Way is designed to break down any and all barriers between me and the minds of prospective pupils like yourself.

"It begins innocently enough. A simple walk down a path. But as the journey wears on, the physical demand drains the traveler's genki. When their body begins to fail, their mind becomes more engaged in the process.

"Doubts begin to cloud their thoughts degrading their shoki. As their mental constructs crumble away, their true self begins to emerge. A self they usually don't even realize is guiding their life decisions.

"With all false pretenses of who they think they are and what they believe they want stripped away, I can finally see how their yuki, their real character, will respond to the challenge Snake Way poses."

Goku's eyes open wider with every word as if trying to absorb each and every insight they can.

"The thoughts and feelings people experience when facing genuine adversity tells me who they actually are. Their values and goals all become clear to me. And given enough time, they eventually cycle through every single one, and I read all of them as they do. Once I have seen enough, I determine whether or not to end Snake Way. And you are the first person to successfully reach my residence."

"So you were in my head the whole time?" says Goku

King Kai nods an affirmation.

"I apologise for how difficult this test was for you," he says.

Goku processes all this from where he kneels before the god.

"So what makes me so special?"

"In my many millennia of existence, I have seen every kind of selfish desire. While none are inherently good or evil, how they are put to use governs their helpfulness or harmfulness to the universe.

"Everyone before you has sought the power I have to offer out of some insecurity they have. They wrongly believe such a power will solve the problem their insecurity is causing.

"But you are not here to solve a problem. You will face any challenge the future holds with or without my help. You do not worry about being strong enough or good enough to meet such threats. You will do it because you believe it's the right thing to do, for yourself and your family and friends."

Goku blinks a few times in rapid succession.

"And that's why you let me finish Snake Way?" says Goku.

"Partly. But there's something else about you too," says King Kai. "Everyone has two selves. One is a static outer self they present to the world. The other is a chaotic inner self they hide away as it constantly changes while processing the world around it.

"As each of your outer layers were peeled back during your journey, I found that the one underneath matched the one before it. It is a rare man whose outer self mirrors his inner self in everything it says and does making the two almost indistinguishable.

"You have no desires to change the world around you. You only wish to improve yourself as a martial artist and hope the people in your life will grow alongside you. You do not judge or assume responsibility for anything beyond yourself. This is the ideology we Kai's strive for in the universe we watch over.

"Even during your last moments at the very end of Snake Way, with the relief of it finally being over, you weren't thinking about all the things you could achieve with godly power. Instead, you were only hopeful you would be able to experience more personal growth for the benefit of you and your loved ones.

"Your heart is truly pure, and it would be my honor to pass on my legacy to you."

"Thank you King Kai," says Goku. "I'm honored to have such a privilege."

"Would you like to speak to your wife and son as a reward for your ordeals?"

"You, you can do that?"

"Of course. I can project my thoughts across the entire universe. I am the greatest telepath in all the cosmos after all. Come, place your hand on my back."

King Kai turns around as Goku stands up on wobbly legs. His eyes brighten as his face breaks out in a smile. He puts one hand on King Kai's shoulder blade. Nothing happens for a moment. And then Chichi's presence fills him.

"Chichi, is that you?"

…

From atop Korin's Tower, Chichi stops mid spar with Yajirobe whose sword slashes towards her. The Power Pole in her hands drops to the floor. He flicks his wrist at the last second to divert the edge away.

"Who, what?" she says.

Her arms cross her chest so her hands can grab each shoulder. Somehow she can feel her late husband's embrace.

"Goku, are you really there?"

"Yep, it's me. I'm sorry for leaving you. I wish I could be there right now to hold you."

"Oh Goku, I've missed you so much. I can't believe how good it is to hear your voice."

Korin and Yajirobe look at each other raising an eyebrow before returning their eyes to Chichi.

"It's good to hear yours too. How have you been?" says Goku.

Glistening streams run down Chichi's cheeks as she speaks.

"Honestly it's been awful. But I'm trying really hard without you or my baby boy. I've been training with Korin. I'm not going to let anyone threaten our family ever again."

"I know how hard you're working. It's awesome you've taken up martial arts more seriously again. But I want you to know it's not your fault. You're not responsible for what happened to me and Gohan. You're a wonderful mother who always takes care of her family."

Chichi sobs and nods. After a few more sniffles, she speaks again.

"I love you Goku. I can't wait until you're home and Gohan is safe in my arms again."

"I love you too and can't wait either. I've got lots of training to do with King Kai first. Speaking of which, he's telling me to wrap it up. So remember, I love you, and I hope to call again soon."

And then he is gone. A coldness settles over her like when Goku leaves the bed on a winter morning. She notices Korin and Yajirobe gazing upon her. She straightens and bows to the cat.

"Pardon me," she says. "Would it be okay if I take the rest of the day off?"

Korin nods, and Chichi quickly retreats down the stairs to the lower level.

…

"Hey son. How are things going?"

His father's voice echoes from far away like he is returning home from the forest with freshly caught dinner.

"Da-Daddy?" says Gohan

Piccolo narrows his eyes at the child's sudden distraction from the training. He watches from afar as his pupil talks to himself.

"How's training with Piccolo been? I can't imagine he's any good with kids."

"It's been … abrasive," says Gohan. "He pushes me a lot harder than you do."

Gohan throws a glance at Piccolo and quickly retracts it when his face is as angry as he expected.

"Haha, I bet he does. Well you're a tough kid and my son. I know you can handle it. Have you been safe at least?"

"Honestly it's been everything but safe."

"Really? Well if he pushes you to do anything you don't want to or aren't ready for, then you tell him he has to have a word with me first. And if he doesn't listen, I'll personally see to it he answers for his actions."

"Thank you Daddy. I was so scared you wouldn't be around anymore when I needed you, but you are."

"Of course Gohan. I can't do everything for you, but I'll always find a way to be there when you need me."

"Thanks Dad. I—"

Gohan winces as his head is forcefully spun around. He comes face to face with a grimacing Piccolo.

"You're supposed to be…" Piccolo says. "Go-Goku?"

"Oh hey Piccolo," says Goku. His cheerful tone grates on Piccolo's ears. "I was just telling Gohan you better take good care of him or you're going to have trouble with me when I get back."

"I what!" he says. His fingers squeeze tighter on Gohan's head.

"That's right. I'm getting special training so you're going to have a hard time keeping up with me."

"Is that right?" says Piccolo. "Heh, like I'd ever fall behind you. You're going to need special training to even have a chance against me."

"I'm happy to hear you're so motivated. I can't wait to have a rematch after we beat the Saiyans."

"Good. I'm looking forward to it. Now if you're done wasting my time, I have work to do."

"Sure thing. Gohan, I love you little buddy. Train hard."

"Okay Dad, I will."

…

"Alright enough with the formalities. Let's try to have some fun," says King Kai. "Being a god is almost always such serious business so try to keep it relaxed while you're here."

"Absolutely. So can we start training right now?" says Goku.

_He didn't listen to a word I said, _thinks King Kai. _Anyone else would want to rest after the distance he traveled, or ask about the secrets of the universe. I thought we could at least spend some time chatting. He is a strange one indeed. _

"If that's really what you want, so be it," King Kai says. "I've been doing a little psychic research on your history. It seems you are a Saiyan, correct?"

"Apparently," says Goku. "I only just found out recently that I'm an alien so it's still new to me. I guess there aren't many left."

"No, they were wiped out nearly a quarter century ago. But I did find out that the Saiyan homeworld had about ten times the gravity you're used to. The Saiyans you're going to fight have all experienced this kind of force and are easily able to endure it. If you cannot learn to do so too, you will never beat them."

"So how am I going to train in higher gravity?"

"Simple," says King Kai snapping his fingers. "There you go."

Goku slumps over as his knees buckle. Every part of his body down to each hair follicle on his arms drags him to the ground with tremendous weight. Even the air around him pushes on him like a humid ocean. His exhausted body cannot fight off the pressure leaving him staring at the grass on his hands and knees.

"Your first assignment under me will be achieving proper mobility in this increased gravity. Good luck."

King Kai walks away to a dome of bricks that seems to be a dwelling. Goku cannot even lift his head to watch him go.

"Wow, what a guy," Goku says. "He's not even affected a little by this insane gravity. I guess I have my work cut out for me."


	22. Gohan Gets a New Schooling

"Wake up!"

The words invade Gohan's dream as a sharp pain stabs his side. He opens his eyes to find a green skinned man in a turban and cape standing over him. He springs to his feet before another pointed shoe tip can kick him again.

"You don't have to be so violent about it," says Gohan.

"When you are strong enough not to get so worn out you oversleep, then I won't have to wake you up like that," says Piccolo. "Now come on. We have work to do."

Gohan follows his harsh mentor out of the cave that has become their campsite. Icarus yawns and stretches before trotting after them. They step into the dimness of the morning. Piccolo faces away from his pupil while giving instructions.

"Alright, let's try this again. It's been nearly four weeks and you still haven't gotten it right. You can't learn to harness your ki until you can sense it for yourself."

Before Gohan can react, Piccolo spins around and slaps him across the face. He lies on the ground rubbing his cheek. Piccolo stands over him with a furious stare.

"Ow, what was that for you jerk," says Gohan.

"That'll teach you to mouth off about my teachings you little smart ass," says Piccolo.

"You heard me just now? But how, I barely whispered?"

"My hearing happens to be exceptional so watch what you say."

"Yeah I'll remember that," says Gohan pressing the palm of his hand into his cheek.

"Now what's the first thing you need to do to sense ki."

"Clear my mind of unnecessary thoughts."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means letting go of my thoughts and becoming only an observer of the world around me. Don't think about the stimulations from my five senses, only experience them. Otherwise I will be distracted from the ki that flows within me and all living beings."

"Right. You can't sense anything if your mind is distracted by its own thoughts. Now begin your meditations until you can feel the life force within your body."

Gohan sits down, crosses his legs, and puts his hands together in his lap with his back to Piccolo and Icarus. He tries to sense the world around him without letting his mind judge or place any value in what his fives senses report back.

The ground is tightly packed with tiny rocks poking out. Their sharp points prick through his clothes and into his skin.

_Why does it have to be so uncomfortable to sit on? _he thinks._ Oops. I mean the ground is neither good nor bad. It's just how the soil is in this place._

The blowing wind cools his face in the hot environment.

_I'm glad there's a nice breeze today. Oh, right. The air isn't too hot. This is just the normal temperature here._

Dust gets in his eyes and nose which irritates them. His eyes water and his nose aches with a burning sneeze.

_This place can be so annoying. No, wait. Loose dirt is a natural part of this land. To live here means accepting it just like living at my mountain home means dealing with the annual pollen._

In the far off distance, a sabertooth tiger stalks something he cannot see.

_Those are scary. I've run into one before out here, and I don't want to again. Hold on. It's just doing what it's supposed to do. Carnivores have teeth and claws so they can eat. They only use them when they need to, not to be evil._

As he comes to terms with his surroundings, other thoughts begin to intrude.

_I don't care what Piccolo says. He doesn't have to be so mean about my training. I don't even want to do it anyway. I'd rather be home studying than doing this. _

_Hmm. I'm supposed to stay in the moment and not worry about a future that doesn't exist. I guess I can't do anything about it right now, so I shouldn't think about it._

A loud shriek and a yelp rings out.

_The sabertooth caught its prey, _he observes.

A small cyclone of dirt whirls before him. It pelts his face with debris.

_I can feel each pebble hit my skin._

He notices a rock fall from a nearby mountain and roll along the slope.

_Gravity at work._

The next thing he notices comes from within, deep from his core. He cannot assign a body part to the strange warmth he feels. It blows out like a match when his fear of the unknown sensation howls through his thoughts.

He takes a deep breath to still his mind and push back against the fear. The warmth returns.

Then he notices two other fires nearby. One rages with the ferocity of an inferno burning down a house. The other is gentle candlelight chasing away the darkness.

The waves of heat wash over him from their sources. He twists at the waist to look behind him. The terrible fire pulses from Piccolo while the benevolent one radiates from Icarus.

Other little fires pop up within his perceptive range just as stars fill a night sky in the evening. Each one emits a different intensity.

Another big force seems to be directly below him. He can feel it moving like water through the pipes of his house. But instead of a single liquid current, each drop of water contains its own source of energy.

Ants! Thousand upon thousands of ants! How small they are and yet together how mighty they feel. The world opens before him revealing itself bigger than he ever imagined and making him smaller than he initially believed. Everything that once seemed disconnected by blood and thoughts is actually connected by the same vitality. The power beating in him beats within them all.

He brings his focus back to himself. He realizes his body is like the tunnels of the ants. He is not compromised of a single life force. There are countless particles swirling about forming his being.

Gohan stands up flexing his fingers as tiny fragments that are not cells filter through his body in passages that are not veins and arteries.

"I can feel it. I can feel everything," Gohan says.

Piccolo lifts his head from his own meditations. An increased mass from the child presses against the field of his spiritual awareness like gravity between a planet and its moon.

"I think I can even sense my dad," Gohan says.

He stiffens as the sound of his father's voice fills his mind.

"Da-Daddy?"

Piccolo squints his eyes at his pupil wondering why he is talking to himself. He marches over to the child and clamps a hand to the boy's scalp.

"You're supposed to be…" he says. "Go-Goku."

After a brief conversation with his archnemesis, he struts off muttering to himself.

"Uh, sorry Mister Piccolo," says Gohan. "I didn't know my father was able to speak to me."

"Next time tell him you're busy and to only talk to you when we're done for the day. I don't need him wasting our time."

The wind blows for a moment.

"Uh, Mister Piccolo, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Make it quick."

"Why don't you and my dad get along?"

"Hasn't your father already told you our history?"

"He's told me his side, but I don't know yours."

"You-you want to hear my side?" says Piccolo. His gruff voice softens at the request.

"Yeah. Everyone has a side. And maybe we could fix the problem you two have by looking at both."

"You're way too optimistic kid. Our feud is deeply rooted in an ugly past. No amount of talking is going to resolve our differences. Bad luck has made us mortal enemies. That's it."

"Are you sure? My dad also said you want to take over the world, but you're preparing to save it," says Gohan. "I don't think you really want that or to fight my dad anymore."

"You think you know what I want now do you? I'm only fighting the Saiyans because I laid claim to this planet and won't let anyone else take it from me."

Gohan thinks for a moment.

"Hmm. I don't know. Now that I can sense your ki, it doesn't feel as scary as you look. It's angry, but it comes from a sadness underneath. Why do you think that is?"

Piccolo growls and grinds his teeth.

"Enough talking," he says. "We have training to do."

He walks off with Gohan tagging along.

"I monitored your ki during your survival training," says Piccolo moving ahead of the child.

"So you were watching me the whole time?" says Gohan. "See you are a good person. You were always there just in case."

"Don't read anything into it. I never intended to help despite what dangers you may have been in.

"But I did notice every time you were, your ki rose enough to meet the challenge. Then when the stress was removed, and your ki settled back down, it was a little higher than where it began. Basically you get more powerful the more danger you're in."

"Yeah, I've always felt a little different after each scary incident," says Gohan.

"So I'm going to put you through hell to bring it up to a respectable level," says Piccolo.

He spins around flashing a devilish smile. Gohan flinches back a step.

"You mean you're going to attack me?"

"Like I said, I'm not your friend. I'm going to come at you with intent to kill. You better do the same if you want to survive."

Piccolo slashes an arm across his body. A concussive force slams into Gohan knocking him off his feet. The child crashes onto his back. With some effort, he lifts his chin to his chest.

"Hey, ki attacks are no fair when I can't use them yet," says Gohan.

Piccolo stampedes toward him while shouting.

"Then you better learn to use them quick."

He stabs at Gohan with extended fingers and sharp nails. His target barely rolls out of the way. On his stomach, the boy pushes up to his feet. A flurry of punches and chops from Piccolo greet him.

The intentions behind each strike are clear as Piccolo's spirit bleeds into the air Gohan breathes. He chokes on the thick, humid aura of animosity blanketing him. He leaps from spot to spot trying to stay ahead of his assailant.

"Don't just run. Attack me," says Piccolo.

"I can't find an opening. You're too fast and scary."

"Don't let fear stop you. You'll die if you do."

Piccolo kicks his pupil's legs out from under him leaving him prone on the ground once more. An open palm with vicious knives of ki around each finger slices towards Gohan.

Terror cripples the boy's muscles as murderous purpose descends. With only one option left, Gohan lashes out. His mind and body join in a singular focus of self-preservation. The union catalyzes his ki causing an explosion of power.

He shoots straight up barely slipping by the ripping hand. His foot catches Piccolo's jaw knocking him backward. After flowing into a backflip, Gohan lands in a martial arts pose.

Piccolo regains his balance and rubs a knuckle under his chin. An old image from the Demon King crackles through the static of his memory. It is one of a young Goku standing in opposition of his world domination in the same stance as the child before him now.

_He's more advanced than I expected,_ he thinks. _Do all Saiyans develop this quickly?_

"There it was again," says Gohan.

He lowers his ready hands to examine them.

"That power I can't control," he says.

Piccolo's eyes twinkle with ki and white lasers shoot out of them. They strike the distracted child punching him to the dirt.

"Hey you sore loser. That was a cheap shot," says Gohan. He grabs at his two injuries with each hand.

"Never let your guard down in a fight even when you think you have the upper hand. A fight is always to the death, and people will do whatever it takes to win. Now let's go again."

By the end of the night, Gohan is bruised and bloodied from head to toe. He and Piccolo sit by a fire outside the cave. A cool salve drips from his fingers. He applies it to his discolored and cut up skin.

"Thank you for the ointment Mister Piccolo. Can you show me how to make it sometime?"

"Hmph. Sure."

A moment passes.

"So Mister Piccolo, did I do good today?" says Gohan.

"What?"

"Are you proud of me? My parents always say they are proud of me when I complete my studies or material arts sessions. So did I make you proud of me?"

"Uh yeah, sure kid. You did."

Gohan smiles and continues tending to his wounds.


	23. Train Away the Pain

BEEP!

An electronic signal sounds and Yamcha sprints from the base of the stairs leading into the Guardian's temple. He races for the trees lining the path to the ladder. Krillin charges a Kamehameha between his cupped hands at the same starting point. Bulma stands alongside Kami, tablet in hand.

Krillin thrusts his arms straight out. A brilliant blue and white wave of ki blasts forth from his palms. Yamcha keeps his eyes ahead even as a brightness begins to creep in from the edges of his peripherals.

He enters the lines of trees near the end of the tiled floor as a growing heat warms his back. Sweat forms over his skin as the hum of phasing energy rings in his ears. He passes the last tree, speeds to the top of the ladder, and takes flight into the open air. The beam shoots underneath him barely missing his toes.

Yamcha floats back to the platform passing a blinking sensor Bulma set up on the ladder. He moves over to the group. Kami nods approval, Krillin smiles, and Bulma stays fixated on the screen.

"If I'm reading it right, you both have set personal bests today," says Kami. He hunches down to squint at the glowing tablet.

"Yeah you guys are moving so fast I'd never be able to time you with a stopwatch," says Bulma.

Yamcha gives her a thumbs up, but her eyes never leave the electronic surface.

"Now for the results," she says. "Yamcha, you've been able to increase your initial movement speed and extended its distance by about ten yards. Krillin, your charge time and wave speed have decreased and increased respectively. So you are well on your way to being able to shoot quick, strong ki blasts."

"Alright, we rock," says Krillin making a V with his fingers.

Yamcha looks at his friend, and then back to Bulma who remains absorbed in her data analysis.

"Yeah we do buddy," he says.

Krillin presses his lips together at the lack of enthusiasm from his comrade.

"Nicely done, both of you," says Kami. "Let us proceed to the next phase."

The two warriors face off in front of the stairs. Yamcha holds his right forearm with his left hand just below the wristband. Yellow electricity sparks around his right hand. A growing light outlines it. Little particles dance between his fingers. The energy moves towards the center of his palm where a ki orb springs forth bobbing up and down.

Krillin readies himself for the attack. Yamcha whips his right hand around his head with only the index and middle fingers extended. The ball floats at the end of them moving just slightly behind as it follows the path they trace. As the ki formation finishes its orbit, Yamcha releases it.

Krillin zips into the air followed by the yellow orb as big as his head. He makes jagged turns careful to never repeat a any of them as he utilizes his full directional options. Yamcha jabs the index and middle fingers of each hand in alternating fashion directing the sphere after his sparring partner.

He never quite catches the bald man before the ki of his Sokidan technique runs out. The sphere loses momentum and size until it is too slow and small to do anything. The exercise finishes, and they report back to Kami and Bulma.

"You nearly had me a few times," says Krillin. "It's getting harder and harder to dodge that thing."

"Thanks man," says Yamcha. His eyes watch the tiles just ahead of his stepping feet.

"Excellent, both you," says Kami. "Krillin your speed is picking up more and more. And Yamcha, the control you now exhibit over such a complex move as the Sokidan is truly impressive."

"Yeah but it's still too slow and doesn't turn tight enough or soon enough," says Yamcha.

"Perhaps," says Kami. "You do still rely on the hand gestures too much. While they are a good way to help you focus, I think your reliance on them shows a lack of confidence in your ability to wield the technique. This is one of the few instances your yuki is actually holding you back. With enough confidence, you would probably be able to use the technique with just your mind."

Yamcha curls up one corner of his lips.

"But don't be too hard on yourself," says Kami. "It's impressive all on its own that you invented such a skill by yourself. Most people must learn such things from a master. And it's a complicated one at that given its extreme mobility."

"I guess so," says Yamcha. His face brightens with a small smile. "And Krillin, thanks again for all the advice on how to have better control of its movement. You're really good at it."

"Hey no problem. But even I haven't invented a technique like that."

"I bet you could if you try."

"Hmm, maybe."

"So here's what I noticed," says Bulma. She walks over eyes glued to her tablet. "My scanners indicate that your ki sphere is indeed interacting with the air molecules around it. Basically this means general rules of aerodynamics and drag apply to even the mysticism of ki. So put simply, if you want your Sokidan to travel faster, you need to condense its mass so it's smaller and therefore produces less drag. Of course by losing surface area this way, you have to be more accurate with the attack. That's all I really have for now."

She wanders away without lifting her head. Yamcha reaches out as she goes, then drops his head and arm together.

"She's still mad, huh?" says Krillin.

"Yeah. My stupid self didn't exactly say the right things in the smartest way when I tried to apologize and explain myself."

"I feel you man. I'm terrible with trying to communicate with women," says Krillin nodding his head with his eyes closed.

Kami thinks to himself,_ I'm glad I'm not human so I don't have to suffer through such terrible rituals as dating._

Yamcha looks over to Tien and Chiaotzu sitting in meditative poses facing one another.

"How come those two are getting it easy with meditation today?" he says.

"That's no mere meditation Yamcha," says Kami. "They are doing image training."

"What's that?" says Krillin.

"Normally it's an advanced shoki exercise where the user envisions an event and how well they would perform during it," says Kami. "It requires a strong will to not allow personal bias to interfere with the outcome. Otherwise the user risks lying to himself if the event is skewed in his favor. Deceiving your ego will only hurt you in the long run."

"Wait, you said _normally_?" says Krillin.

"Yes. If one does image training on their own, that's how it would work. However, Tien and Chiaotzu have telepathic abilities that allow them to link minds and image train together."

"So they are fighting each other mentally?" Yamcha says.

"They could, but that's not what I have them doing today. They are participating in a mock battle with the soldier from space Goku, Chichi, and Piccolo fought."

"Could we learn to do that?" says Krillin.

"Perhaps. Why don't you ask them how it works during the upcoming break."

…

Tien begins to sweat from his forehead. His closed eyes squint harder and harder in concentration as their movement underneath glides along the thin skins of their lids. His mouth switches between puckering and pursing a few times before the lips pull back in a pained snarl. Chiaotzu remains much calmer sitting before him.

Finally Tien breaks from the training as his eyes shoot open while inhaling vigorously through his nostrils. He looks at his partner who now begins to show the same facial expressions he did. A few moments later, Chiaotzu is the one opening his eyes and breathing hard.

"Looks like I still don't measure up," says Chiaotzu.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," says Tien. "With our teamwork, we almost had him. And your shoki has only gotten stronger. You lasted longer than I did."

"Thanks Tien."

"Hey you guys. Time for break," says Yamcha yelling over to them.

He and Krillin sit on a rolled out carpet with food dishes on it. Kami and Mr. Popo stand nearby. Bulma sits far aside engrossed in her research. She snacks with one hand while the other taps away at her computer. Tien and Chiaotzu join their fellow trainees.

So … you guys … can read minds … huh?" says Yamcha between bites.

"It's not quite that simple," says Tien. "We both have telepathic abilities, but I can only project my thoughts so others can hear them in their mind. Chiaotzu can do that and read the thoughts of others if they aren't guarded."

Chiaotzu looks down at his bowl of food and chopsticks.

"Really," says Yamcha. "Okay Chiaotzu. What number am I thinking of?"

Chiaotzu winces at the sound of his name. He sighs. Then he looks into Yamcha's eyes. For a moment nothing happens. Then Chiaotzu's white face begins to turn pink starting from both cheeks.

"What?" says Yamcha. "Embarrassed you can't guess my number."

"No," says Chiaotzu. "It's 1,323."

Yamcha's eyebrows arch upward like a stretching cat.

"Was he right?" says Krillin.

"Uh huh," says Yamcha.

"Wow that's amazing Chiaotzu," Krillin says. "Sorry for putting you on the spot. You okay? You look flustered."

"Mm-hmm. It's just what else Yamcha was thinking."

Yamcha drops his hands along with the bowl and utensils he is holding to his lap while his eyes widen.

"Oh, what was he thinking?" says Krillin.

"It's about Bulma."

Yamcha chokes on his food.

"You okay man?" says Krillin.

Yamcha squeaks out a yes.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I think that's enough mind reading for now. So, uh, how exactly do I hide my thoughts from your prying little mind?"

"You have to use your shoki to focus on only the thoughts you need," says Chiaotzu still blushing. "You have to let unnecessary ideas pass through your consciousness without any kind of emotional reaction. If you start to worry or fantasize about them, they will linger in your awareness. These are the thoughts a telepath of my level can get access to."

"Okay," says Yamcha, "but how do I do that?"

"I like to visualize a person's consciousness like a murky river," the psychic says. "And their thoughts are the fish in that river. I can see the general outlines below the surface but not the specific details like what kind of fish it is. These are the thoughts I cannot read from another person.

"But if that person grabs onto one of these fish and pulls it from the river to examine more closely, then they are giving that idea greater attention in their mind. These are the types of thoughts I can read. It's when people focus on it. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah I think so," says Yamcha.

"And not only that," says Kami, "wandering thoughts irrelevant to the current situation will only weaken your mental energies for the task at hand. You can always revisit those thoughts later. Either write them down or make mental note of them, and then let them pass on without giving them importance right this moment."

"I'll be sure to put that on my list of things to learn," says Yamcha.

They all laugh and carry on with their break.

"Alright everyone, let's get back to work," says Kami as they finish the last few bites of their snacks. "Krillin, I want you helping Yamcha with his Ki suppression again since you have become the most skilled at it."

"Yes, it's quite remarkable," says Tien. "Hiding my presence was a major part of my assassin training, and you've managed to surpass me."

"Ah guys, it's nothing," says Krillin. His right hand scratches the back of his head as he gives a forced laugh. "Really. Come on Yamcha, you can do it too."

Krillin trots off ahead of his friend to an empty section of the palace floor.

"Tien and Chiaotzu," says Kami. "You two are going to switch over to genki training, correct?"

"Yes," says Tien. Chiaotzu nods.

"Proceed."

As they head out to the other side of the floating temple, Yamcha calls Chiaotzu back over. The little psychic floats to him.

"Hey," Yamcha says in an almost whisper, "I just wanted to say thank you for everything over the past few weeks. You've really helped me out with flying and what not, and I appreciate it."

Chiaotzu's face brightens with a smile.

"Thank you," he says. "You've helped me a lot too. I never thought I could keep up with you three before."

"You've done great little man. Don't feel intimidated around us. We're all friends."

"Right," Chiaotzu says tilting his head forward.

"Oh, and between friends, could you keep that little mental image from earlier between us?"

Chiaotzu's pale face flushes pink again.

"Sure thing."

With that, Yamcha jogs over to Krillin while Chiaotzu joins Tien. The three eyed man has already summoned a second pair of arms from his shoulders by using his Shiyoken technique.

"Are you ready Chiaotzu?" he says. "I'm going to push you even harder today with your hand to hand combat. We need to strengthen your genki to get you to the next level. I want you in your best shape for the Saiyans."

"Yeah, I know," says Chiaotzu. He pauses. "I've been thinking, could you teach me the Kikoho?"

"Chiaotzu!" Tien says. "That technique will destroy your life force. Probably even kill you."

"I know it's dangerous, but it could save us."

"No! We've discussed this once before and that should have been the end of it. Now never speak of it again."

Chiaotzu lowers his head. Tien takes a fighting pose. Chiaotzu clenches his fists. His head jerks back up.

"No Tien. I will do anything to protect you and the rest of my friends. Even if it means permanently injuring myself."

Tien relaxes his rigid posture.

"If you're not going to let this go, then let me tell you the horrible truth of that technique," Tien says. "Master Shen manipulated me into learning the Kikoho. He brainwashed me into believing there was some sort of honor in using a self-sacrificing attack for the glory of the Crane school.

"Master Shen forsook his morals to change the purpose of his teachings from one of self improvement to one of personal gain. He began training assassins instead of martial artists. He took payment for jobs instead of gratitude from people he used to help. And he demanded his students never fail their missions.

"So he forced us to learn the Kikoho. We were supposed to use it to kill our targets if nothing else had worked. Even though it would probably kill us, it was better to die than return a failure. And all of it was just to protect Master Shen's reputation."

Chiaotzu's face becomes more distraught with every word. Tien continues.

"In my arrogance, I used the Kikoho against Goku in the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament. Believing I could control its power, I ended up crippling myself. I know I didn't show it, but that's why I struggled against King Piccolo and his minions. Everything in my body hurt. Muscles, bones, organs, everything. It was like they were on fire slowly disintegrating away. Even my mind was affected. I couldn't remember old memories or even more recent ones from the current day.

"I felt older, like I was closer to dying. I couldn't even use the attack again. I tried to compensate by learning the Mafuba instead. It took me three years to recover but even that wasn't enough. I still couldn't compare to Goku and Piccolo in the next tournament.

"So no, I'm not going to teach my best friend something that will only result in you getting yourself killed. Now I will hear no more of this. Prepare yourself for training."

Tien lunges at Chiaotzu before his friend can fully ready himself. He seems possessed as he pushes the little fighter with the full force of his melee combat.

…

"Still not getting it huh?" says Krillin.

"Nope. I'm hopeless," Yamcha says.

"No you're not, I'm just not a good teacher," says Krillin. He thinks for a moment. "I've got it! You seem to be able to calm your physical energies but not your mental ones. You're beating yourself up too much. Try imagining a scene of what ki suppression looks like to you."

"Of what it looks like to me? Hmm." says Yamcha. He thinks for a moment. "I don't know man. What do you picture?"

"Me? Oh, uh, I-I don't think mine would work for you. You probably need to come up with one for yourself. Maybe something to do with a wolf?"

"A wolf huh? Hey, yeah. That gives me an idea."

Yamcha closes his eyes and his breaths become slower. Krillin feels his friend's energy drop to the point he cannot get it to go any lower than. It hovers there for a moment like a fishing bobber. It fluctuates up and down but never dips below the surface.

Then suddenly, Yamcha's ki shrinks away, and Krillin can only barely sense it at all.

"Woah, you did it! Nice job man," says Krillin. "What did you imagine?"

"I thought of a wolf stalking prey, silently hidden in tall grass."

"Perfect. Right on."

They bump fists.

"But I still need help being able to get my ki back out quickly," says Yamcha. "I feel completely helpless right now, and it's making me freak out a little."

"Right, right. Okay. Hmm," says Krillin.

A bang catches their attention. Bulma summoned a small jet from one of her Capsules and is already climbing inside the pilot seat. Yamcha and Krillin look at each other.

"Hey where are you going?" says Yamcha yelling after her as he jogs over. Krillin stays behind.

"I just heard back from Puar, Oolong and the others," she says. "They found the last Dragon Ball. I need to go meet up with them and secure those things so they are safe."

"Really, you need to leave right now?" Yamcha says. "Can't your dad do it or something?"

"Actually I haven't been able to get a hold of him for quite some time now. My mom says he's been acting weird. I need to check on him."

"Hang on, I'll go with you."

Yamcha grabs for the edge of the cockpit where a second seat behind the pilot one is. Bulma slaps his hands away.

"Hey, what's your deal?" says Yamcha. "I just want to help."

"No. You need to stay up here and train."

"You know you've been acting weird ever since we had that argument the other day. Usually we make up by now."

Bulma's head droops to the console of the plane, nearly resting on it. Her arms tremble as her hands grip her knees tightly.

"Bulma, what's wrong?" he says.

"I'm afraid of you dying, okay?" she says. "I'm afraid to get close to you if you're just going to leave me."

"Ah come on. That won't happen."

"You don't know that!"

Her head twists up to stare into his eyes. Hers are filled with tears.

"I'm terrified," she says. "I love you, and I don't want you to fight the Saiyans. I know you have to, but I don't want to lose you like we lost Goku."

"But Goku's coming back. And we can use the Dragon Balls to wish me back too if anything happens to me."

"That doesn't make it better. Even knowing that, the pain of watching Goku die in my lap before my very eyes haunts me. And bringing him back will never make that hurt go away. And I don't want to go through that again."

They both do not speak for a moment.

"I need some time," she says.

"Okay. Be safe."

"I will."

"Call me when you get home."

"I will."

Yamcha watches Bulma fly off across the light blue sky. A blood red apparition accompanies her flight. Despite being barely visible in the sunlight, the Makyo Star looms large on the horizon beside her aircraft. Its cratered surface makes a ghastly face following her with hollowed out eyes.


	24. A Mysterious Foe Appears

Catch the monkey. That was the godly training King Kai gave him after spending several weeks acclimating to the higher gravity. It has been over two months, maybe even over three, and all he has done is run on a fake road and chase a chimp. Could this really be the special preparation Kami thought would help him save the world?

"I don't mean to stress you out," says King Kai calling from the front door of his house, "but if you don't catch Bubbles soon, you won't have enough time to learn the art of Kaioken from me."

Goku turns his attention back to the monkey who taunts him with a series of hooting noises accompanied by insulting gyrations of its stout body and thin tail. He runs after Bubbles again in an awkward squatting posture he adapted for locomotion under the gravity weighing him down.

_Hopefully that motivates him a little more, _King Kai thinks._ Although, come to think of it, there probably was never enough time to begin with. I wonder how much he can improve?_

Back and forth, up and down. Goku has traveled every square inch of the grassy plateau, maybe enough times to complete half of his Snake Way journey again. Whenever he thinks he is gaining ground, Bubbles reveals he is just playing and increases his speed a little bit more.

"Lunch break!" says King Kai from inside the frame of a large window.

King Kai braces himself for Goku to rush in the front door and slam himself down in a seat at the dinner table. He had not been prepared for the ravenous appetite of the Saiyan when he first arrived. Even his magically refilling food supply could not keep up with the black hole of a stomach Goku held within him.

To his utter surprise, Goku merely walks to the house half dragging his feet. He watches with concern as Goku slowly, almost delicately, consumes one bite after another instead of several at once. His eyes are not on the food this time. They stare through the window.

When lunch is over, they step outside. King Kai officially starts the next session of chasing Bubbles with the wave of his arm. His oversized sleeve flaps like the starting flag of a race. Bubbles sprints off on his stubby legs, but Goku does not leap forward with his usual enthusiasm. In fact, he just stands there examining his palms.

"Uh, Goku?" says King Kai. "You can start."

Goku closes his eyes. A shimmering blue and white orb pops out through the skin of each hand. They are big enough he could not get his fingers around their circumference if he grabbed them.

He crouches and leans his upper body towards Bubbles. His arms straighten down his sides so his palms face away from the monkey. A sonic boom breaks the tranquil silence as the ki spheres burst into rocket boosters.

He zooms at Bubbles who cries in surprise at the unexpected momentum. Goku nearly runs into him, but a quick hop to the side gets the chimp out of the way.

After shooting passed the primate, Goku pushes out his left arm to initiate a right turn. As he comes back around, Bubbles is still catching his breath from the shock of this new tactic. The monkey scurries at breakneck pace as Goku blasts after him once again.

Bubbles makes a sharp turn, but Goku is ready and keeps right on his tail. King Kai smiles while observing the scene.

…

"Again Gohan! And do it right this time."

Piccolo stands with crossed arms over his pupil's shoulder. Gohan raises his hands over his head. The palm of his left rests on the back of his right. He inhales deeply. His arms drop by in front of his chest, and his fingers spread wide.

"Masenko, ha!"

Gohan holds the pose for a moment but nothing happens. He looks back at Piccolo who scowls and bears his fanged teeth.

"How is it possible you've made no progress at all?" says Piccolo. "How many weeks has it been? And I told you to stop adding 'ha' to the end of it. This isn't your dad's Kamehameha. It's called the Masenko for a reason."

Gohan just turns his head to the ground. He looks at the new gi he wears. It is purple like Piccolo's but with a red sash around his waist instead of a blue one. Somehow his teacher made them out of thin air. He sniffles a bit.

"Really? And now you're going to cry again. Honestly, this is ridiculous. I'm wasting my time."

Piccolo emphatically tromps away. He stops immediately when a rise in Gohan's power level surprises him. He looks at the kid who is staring straight back.

"Maybe I could get this if you weren't so insufferable," Gohan says. His voice echoes back with its anger. "It's no wonder no one likes you. You don't have an ounce of kindness in your whole body."

Piccolo opens his mouth to yell back, but Gohan does not stop.

"I've learned math and science far beyond anyone my own age, so I know I'm more than capable of figuring this out too. But not with you screaming at me over every mistake. So why don't you stop blaming me, admit you're an awful instructor, and figure out how to better explain this to me!"

Gohan's breaths seethe in and out for a moment. As Piccolo's expression switches from one of astonishment to one creased with rage, the child loses his edge and starts to worry for his own safety. His gut clenches as he awaits another slap across the head.

Piccolo forces air out of his flared nostrils before speaking.

"What part of the lesson are you not understanding?"

He struggles with the words as if saying each one is a punch to him from an opponent. Gohan only stares at him for a moment.

"I guess I don't understand how to bring out my ki now that I can sense it. You say I need to grab hold of it and pull it out, but I don't know what that means."

"Ki is a beast, and it needs to be tamed. You can't be afraid of it. You need to wrestle control of it for yourself."

"But my life force doesn't feel ferocious like yours does. Maybe I need to harness it differently?"

"It might not feel that way right now, but when your anger boils over, there's no ki I've ever felt more feral than yours."

"Gosh, is it really that scary? I don't think I want a power like that."

"It doesn't really matter what you want. It's inside you whether you like it or not. Better to learn how to control it than letting it control you. Otherwise it might target someone you care about."

Gohan looks at Icarus who wags his tail.

"But for now, maybe you need to build some confidence in your ki control," says Piccolo. "We'll work with what you have right now."

"Okay," says Gohan. His eyes have not yet drifted back to his trainer.

"Your ki is very docile. So maybe try … speaking to it and, uh, asking it to do what you want."

Piccolo grits his teeth through every word.

Gohan concentrates for a moment as a calm look takes his face for the first time today. He gets in the same stance from earlier and calls out the technique's name without the extra syllable. A cloud of yellow smoke poofs in front of his hands. He quickly looks at Piccolo to see how he will react.

Piccolo's lips are stretched flatly from cheek to cheek. He opens them to speak.

"You've finally made some progress. Let's take a break for now and continue from here."

When they return, Gohan fires Masenko after Masenko. At first his hands just spit smoke. Then his attempts start to produce light and warmth. After many hours of inner dialogue and fading mental fortitude, a yellow beam of energy fires from his palms. It barely covers a foot before him, but is his first successful ki wave.

He leaps up and down hollering with laughter. Icarus prances over to him and dances alongside him. Piccolo struggles with a cheerful feeling rising in his chest threatening to uplift his lips.

"Well done Gohan," says Piccolo. "You made me proud."

"So are we going to keep doing this until sunset or switch over to melee combat?"

"Neither, you've burned up too much ki today. You need to rest. Come on."

They saunter over to the cave, Gohan behind his mentor. Piccolo stops abruptly as his pupil yawns walking by. Gohan turns to look at his father's rival. Piccolo's eyelids are peeled back and his mouth agape. A sweat droplet forms beside one of his antennas and runs down his face.

"What's the matter Mister Piccolo?"

"Get in the cave Gohan," says Piccolo.

"But why?"

"Do as I say. No questions."

Gohan hurries into the dark opening spurred on by the terror in his teacher's voice. He hears the thud of Piccolo's weighted clothes hit the ground but does not spare a moment to look back. As soon as he is deep enough for the entrance to disappear around the bend of the tunnel, he presses his back against the wall and slides down it to sit.

Piccolo raises his arms as five individuals arrive from above. Four of them surround a shorter figure cloaked in a white hood and cape as they descend. He cannot see this person's face, but the others all grin with sinister intent upon landing before him.

"This is the one Master, I'm sure of it."

Piccolo's eyes move to a goblin man with dark olive skin. He is the second smallest after the one wearing the cloak. Light armor with a brownish red color covers his torso and pelvis area.

"Excellent work Ginger. It seems your mission was a success."

Piccolo's vision darts to the second tallest of the group. The pale blue, almost gray, skinned man stands at the forefront of everyone else. He looks over a high collar around the sides and back of his neck at the first one who spoke.

"Thank you Lord Spice," says Ginger.

"He looks a lot like him doesn't he Master?" says Spice. He runs a hand through his flowing white hair that somehow moves upward instead of dropping down to his shoulders.

The cloaked figure pulls back the hood allowing it to collapse along his neckline. A bulbous head, pointed ears, and a single fanged smirk greets Piccolo.

"Indeed he does Spice," says the little gremlin. "Almost like I remember from all those years ago."

His skin is the same color as Spice's but a few discolored patches dot the sides of his head. They look like dark green liver spots.

"And there is no mistaking the greed and pride pervading his aura," the dwarf continues. "This is undoubtedly the rejected leftovers Kami expelled from his being in order to steal the position as Guardian of this planet from my father! So, does this degenerate lifeform have a name?"

Piccolo tenses under the pressure of their full attention upon him. He inhales briefly through his nose and blows it out through puckered lips.

"Even knowing I'm the spawn of god himself, you still antagonize me?" says Piccolo. "You should choose your next words carefully."

"You don't scare me," says the diminutive man. "Though it's been several hundred years, I can tell the malice in your heart has softened since I last met your former self. While my hatred has only grown stronger waiting all this time to exact my revenge!"

A memory starts to form deep in the fogs of Piccolo's mind. One older than even the Demon King himself.

"But fortunately for you," he continues, "you're only a pawn in this game between Kami and I. I have no reason to kill you."

The memory begins to cast shadows across his mind, but Piccolo still cannot make out what they are of.

"Then why are you here?" Piccolo says stalling for time.

"Because there's something you can help me with," says the gremlin.

He nods his head left and then right. His cronies move in around Piccolo. The green warrior bends his knees and begins building up ki.

"Don't struggle," says Spice. "We'll be done soon."

Ginger strikes first. Piccolo slips around him while smashing his shin up under the ribs of the aggressor. The goblin enemy snorts out of his skullish snout as air rushes out of his lungs.

The biggest and bulkiest of them moves in next. He charges like a rhino using his shoulder and upper arm with gray rocky skin to match.

Piccolo places both palms, one over the other, in front of himself to catch the attack. The shock of the impact irritates every muscle fiber in both arms as it dissipates through them.

"Masenko!" he says.

A yellow beam of energy drives the monster away. Before he can finish directing the full wave into his enemy, his legs fly out from under him. He falls onto his back as his ki rips harmlessly through the sky.

He turns his head to find an aged face mocking him for having snuck up from behind. Spice drops in from above pinning both his arms to the ground with pressing knees while the older man clad in white fabric sashes grabs his legs. Piccolo struggles against the weight upon him but cannot free himself.

The tiny leader's head peeks into his view from above.

"Hold still for a moment, would you?" he says.

He is holding a pear shaped glass object. He touches the clear item to Piccolo's temple. It is cold against his skin. He then places his left hand against the opposite side of Piccolo's head. It is even colder.

"This might hurt a little," says the dwarf.

Something yanks from inside Piccolo's brain. A knotted up ball unwinds in his skull, drawn towards the glass object. The strand pulls tighter trying to force the knot apart rather than being meticulously unwoven.

A golden string rips out of his head where the glass touches his skin. It tangles up in the center of the transparent container. The last of it stretches thin before tearing free of his skull.

When it snaps off, the memory worming its way to the forefront of his thoughts finally emerges. It is fragmented, but he pieces together the story.

"You're the son of Garlic!" says Piccolo practically spitting in the midget's face.

"That's right. I am Garlic Junior. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He stands straight up removing the cool surface from Piccolo's head.

The small man's lips pull back in a fanged smile.

"What did you do to me?" says Piccolo.

"I just stole a small souvenir of your life force is all."

"To what end?" says Piccolo.

"That's really none of your business. Alright gentleman, we have what we came for."

Gohan barely spies around the edge of the cavernous tunnel. He witnesses with one eye the scene of Piccolo being ganged up on.

_I should do something,_ he thinks. _But what can I do that Mister Piccolo can't? Still, if I don't, I may not have anyone to protect me out here if they hurt him too badly … or worse. But…_

_Maybe I could escape if they did. I don't want him to get hurt real bad or anything. Maybe they could just knock him out long enough for me to get home._

Piccolo watches as Garlic Junior's smirking face droops into a stoic expression of thought. The dwarf lifts his head back out of his victim's view.

"What is it Master Garlic?" asks the minion holding Piccolo's legs.

"I can sense a trace of selfish desire that wasn't there before," says Garlic. "Do you feel it too Nicky?"

"Hmm," says the person atop Piccolo's lower half. He closes his eyes and sniffs the air twice. "You're right. It's faint, but it's there."

He turns his head to the biggest of their gang.

"Sansho, would you be a dear and take over for me please," says Nicky.

"Right away my Vizier," he says.

Piccolo experiences a brief let up in the smaller man's weight before being replaced with a much heavier one. His legs actually compress beneath it, squishing outward.

Nicky begins walking around while smelling for a scent. Each meandering step brings him a little closer to the cave.

"Now I'm getting a hint of fear," he says. "I must be getting closer."

Gohan sees the white clad humanoid's gaze fixate on his hiding place. He spins away from the opening pressing himself against the rock wall out of sight. He rapidly inhales air which keeps getting pushed out by a pressure in his chest.

"Hello little one."

Gohan's eyes shoot up to find a plume of graying strands of straw for hair sneaking around the bend of the cave. He pushes off the wall but a hand grabs his tail. His body goes limp as it is lifted into the air.

"Looks like we almost missed one Master Garlic," says Nicky rejoining the group. "Children are always such a nuisance to detect."

"Indeed they are," says Garlic. "Hard to believe his innocence is still intact hanging around the demonic remains of Kami."

Garlic turns back to Piccolo and kicks him across the face.

"Listen up," he says. "I don't know what this boy means to you, but we'll be taking him with us. If you follow, we'll kill him. Assuming you are even able to move that is. Boys!"

Spice and Sansho smile before letting loose a furious beatdown. The white haired man pummels Piccolo's head while the muscular one pulverizes his gut. Then they float into the air where their three companions await them.

Spice raises both arms over his head. A reddish pink light grows between his palms. A mass of energy forms with a scarlet center and rosy aura. He throws his arms down to his waist releasing the ki formation.

It crashes into Piccolo exploding on impact. The arid landscape erupts with dust and smoke. When the wind clears some of it away, they see the target lying in a crater half buried in dirt.

"Careful Spice," says Garlic. "We don't want him to die."

He examines the glass containing Piccolo's essence. It flickers and fades but maintains a fiery yellow light at the center.

"Sorry Master," says Spice. "His face just reminds me of everything we lost so long ago."

"I know," says Garlic. "But we have what we need to bring my father back now. And then this world will finally be ours."

"So where does it say to go sire?" says Ginger.

Garlic looks at his eager henchman and then back to the crystal object in his hand.

"This way."

The five of them fly off into the blue sky. The cerulean expanse is only interrupted by the white of clouds and a poisonous fuchsia glow from the Makyo Star.


	25. Dragon Ball Adventures

"Oh you should have seen it Bulma," says Puar. The cat sits atop her shoulder. "Oolong thought the best way to get the Dragon Ball from this really rich old man was to seduce him with a pretty woman."

"That's no surprise," says Bulma.

They both laugh while Oolong sits across from them at a round table. He leans his cheek on one hand turning his face away from them in a sulk. They and the rest of the Dragon Team are gathered in an open room at Bulma's home in Capsule Corporation.

"So what happened?" says Bulma.

"Oh geez do we really have to tell this story," Oolong says.

He leans forward over the table on both hands.

"Oh yeah," says Puar. "I told him stealing it would be easier. Yamcha and I pulled off a lot of heists together, and I'd plan it all out. But Oolong insisted on the seduction."

"Only we couldn't find any women to volunteer," says the Ox King.

Bulma turns her full attention to the giant, husky man.

"So Oolong says he'll do it himself and transforms into one. Then he tries to date the old geezer for like two or three weeks. No joke."

"Yeah and then what?" she asks.

"Well…" says Upa. He blushes. "The old man asks Oolong to come home with him to his mansion one night. We all wait outside and then…"

"Then what?" says Bulma scooting to the edge of her seat.

Puar speaks again.

"Oolong comes running out back in his normal form with guards and servants chasing after him. Apparently he couldn't keep up the transformation and just grabbed the Dragon Ball and ran for it."

"So he ended up stealing it just like you suggested," says Bulma. "That's hilarious."

The group laughs at Oolong's expense. Bulma does so the loudest and most joyfully with a hand over her mouth.

"Oh man," she says, "that is really funny. It sounds like quite the adventure. So what about the rest of the Dragon Balls?"

Let's see," says Puar. "Turtle fished one out of the ocean and then went back to his island. Ox King won a tournament in a village treating it like a sacred object."

The Ox King flexes a bicep.

"I've been retired for a long time now, but I can still lay down a wallop, heh!"

"Another Dragon Ball was in the cave of this monstrous creature that looked like a bear crossed with a wolf," Puar says. "It looked way too scary to try and fight, but Upa was able to sooth it and befriend the wild beast. It was awesome."

"Way to go Upa," says Bulma. She reaches over and pats him on the back.

"It was nothing really," he says. "Learning to live peacefully with nature is what my tribe does."

"Don't sell yourself short," says Puar. "You kept us all safe from harm on that one."

The cat gives the young boy a smile, and he smiles back.

"Oh, you won't believe this Bulma. Guess who we ran into?" Puar says.

"Who?"

"Launch!"

"No way! Launch? Really? What was she doing?"

"She actually found one of the Dragon Balls herself," says Puar. "Only by the time we got to her, she had gambled it away in a poker match. Of course she failed to mention to the people she lost it to that there were six more. In fact, the only reason we were able to get them to bet it again was by offering the secret of how to use it. That was a wild night."

"I'm sure. How has Launch been?" says Bulma.

"Oh the same old Launch," says Oolong. "And I've got a bullet scar to prove it. She spent all the money she won at poker for us to celebrate winning back the ball. Then she was gone in the morning before we all woke up."

The pig shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his seat.

"Okay, that's five then," Bulma says. "What about the last one?"

"I picked up the last one by—"

Puar is cut off by a crashing sound. They all turn to see a man in a lab coat skulking at the back of an unlit hall. Next to him is a knocked over cart of used dishes. His eyes flash purple the same way a nocturnal predator's eyes reflect light. Having been spotted, the man immediately dashes into the next room.

"Dad?" says Bulma, getting up to follow.

She rushes after her father. He weaves through doors and down halls. She only catches glimpses of the flapping end of his coat every time he rounds a corner. As they run, lights turn on from motion sensors deactivating their energy saver mode. She follows the lights through the network of chambers and passages.

She comes to a stop in a large room. None of the exits are open. Dr. Brief is hiding somewhere among the lab equipment. She raises her arms in front of her. Her feet make little steps never fully leaving the floor.

An explosion and crumbling rubble reverberates mutedly through the building to where she stands deep inside. She turns her head to its source. A strong grip twists one of her arms behind her back.

"You've been a bad daughter."

Her father's voice sounds unnaturally deep. His mustache pricks against her ear.

"Dad, what are you—"

"I told you not to see that boy anymore."

He shoves her to the ground. She watches him walk over to a metal pipe lying on the floor. He picks it up. His glowing eyes shift back to her.

...

"Bulma still hasn't returned my calls."

Yamcha stares at the phone she left him.

"She hasn't been gone that long," says Krillin. "I'm sure everything's fine. She needed a little space. That's all."

"No. She knows how much I work myself into a frenzy with worry. She doesn't like it, but she always tries to keep my mind at ease when I do. I know something's wrong. I can feel it. I need to go see what's going on."

"Woah, you can't leave," says Krillin. "We have training to do."

"Actually," says Kami stepping forth from his temple, "I think you all deserve a break. You've been working hard, and proper rest to recover is just as important as the training itself."

"Wait. Really?" says Krillin.

"Yes, we will resume in three days," says the Guardian. "You may leave my palace if you need to."

"Perfect," says Yamcha. "Thank you. I'll be back in three days. Oh, and I'm taking off these weighted clothes!"

After removing the garments, he goes through some of Bulma's left behind things and finds a Capsule. He throws it making a jet poof out of the inconceivably small container. He hops in, drives it off the tiled floor like a runway, and shoots through the sky.

"Will the rest of you be leaving as well?" says Kami.

"Chiaotzu and I don't have anywhere we need to be," says Tien. "We'll stay right here."

Kami looks at Krillin.

"Oh, uh," he says. "Yeah, I might leave for a day or so."

"Understood," says Kami. "I have some business that I must attend to. I'll see all of you back here in three days."

Kami turns around to return to his temple. As he passes Mr. Popo, they nod to each other. From there he disappears into the shadows of the palace.

…

Yamcha turns the jet back into a Capsule midair high above West City. He free falls as he searches for the Capsule Corporation headquarters. Upon spotting it, a white aura breaks around him as he propels himself towards the complex. The magenta glow of the Mayko Star follows his descent. It shines with the light of the sun as it creeps towards the bright circle in the sky.

His feet hit the pavement in a run. He sprints for Bulma's home now just a block away. A gaping hole in the side of it spurs him on faster. The randomness of its edges are the unmistakable signs of an explosion.

For some reason, the faint impulse to rob the Briefs' business creeps into his thoughts. He shakes his head wondering where the itch of his old bandit ways came from.

"Bulma!" he says, hoping his voice will carry into the building.

He halts to a stop when his way is blocked by a group of people. They seem to be just ordinary citizens. Among them is a pretty lady in a red dress, an old man wearing suspenders, and even a young boy not more than ten or eleven. Yet, the aura they give off is filthy. Yamcha can feel it sticking to him like a sweat from the flu. And their eyes. A fuchsia light encircles their irises

They move in surrounding him.

"You guys don't want to do this," Yamcha says.

The old man lunges first. The martial artist slips by him while tapping the back of his head with an elbow. He drops to the cement, still but breathing.

In a whirlwind of bodies, Yamcha dispatches each one of them as lightly as he can, including the child.

"What the hell is wrong with these people?" he says.

He sprints to the front doors of his destination not slowing to open the glass entryway properly. The latches offer little resistance as he bursts through them.

"Bulma! Bulma where are you?"

He keeps calling her name while checking every hall and room one floor at a time. Debris and burn marks litter the residence. Finally he stumbles across the injured group of his friends. Puar seems okay and is putting a wet rag on the Ox King's forehead. Upa already has one.

"Puar, Puar what happened?"

The cat jerks back to look at him, fear in her eyes.

"Yamcha? Oh Yamcha it was awful."

She flies into his arms, and they embrace. He hears a female voice call his name before sputtering into a fit of coughs. He spins on his heels hopeful to see Bulma. Instead, he finds her mom.

He moves over to her and grabs one of her hands.

"What happened here?" he asks.

"Demons," she says.

"Demons?" says Yamcha.

He turns to Puar who nods.

"They came for the Dragon Balls," she says in a whisper. "They took all of them. But when we only had six, they took Bulma and Oolong as hostages."

"Those monsters kidnapped Bulma?" Yamcha says.

The woman groans out an affirmative.

"Where did they go?"

She shakes her head.

"They said something about finding the last one," she says. "Then they flew off."

Yamcha punches the nearby wall sending cracks branching out like lightning.

"Damn them," he says.

He laments not checking in sooner.

"Wait!" he says. "If they have the Dragon Balls, then I should be able to find them with the Dragon Radar!"

He rushes off to search for it with Bulma's mom calling after him.

"Please Yamcha. Find my daughter."

Yamcha enters a lab room he has seen Bulma store the device in before. He starts tugging on drawers like a madman pulling them straight out of their desks and cabinets. He dumps their contents on the floor and kicks his feet through whatever lands there.

"Looking for this?"

Yamcha turns his head to see Dr. Brief holding the Dragon Radar. He starts towards the professor who holds up a hand.

"Eh, eh," says Dr. Brief, wagging a finger. "One step closer and I'll smash it on the ground."

"Dr. Brief, what are you doing?" says Yamcha. "Bulma's in danger."

"Yes. And rightfully so for not listening to her father."

"What?"

It is then that he notices the same sickly stench coming from Dr. Brief as the people outside and the thin line of magenta encapsulating his irises.

"Since Bulma won't stay away from you," Dr. Brief says, "I'll take care of you myself. You broke her heart, and I won't let you do it again."

The man puts a hand into his lab coat. Yamcha rushes over at a speed he knows the doctor cannot react to. He reaches for the Dragon Radar. It disappears before him as the elder moves with unexpected agility.

A burning burrows into his right shoulder. Yamcha grabs the spot as his eyes follow the doctor moving by that same side to stand several yards behind him. A laser gun points at him from the scientist's other hand.

_What's going on?_ Yamcha thinks. _Where did his sudden power come from?_

"Don't try that again," says Dr. Brief.

He raises the radar and gives it a squeeze. It deforms a little in his grasp. Yamcha glares over his shoulder at the show of control. He slips his hand off his injured shoulder, pulling it to his chest.

"I'm going to conduct an experiment," says the doctor. "I want to find out how many shots it will take to kill you."

He pulls the trigger firing another laser. His target zooms far to his left. He watches the foe and follows him with the gun. At the same time, he sees a yellow orb floating where the man just stood.

Yamcha gives a flick of his fingers, and the sphere darts straight into Bulma's father, knocking him against the wall. The gun and the radar clatter to the floor while the doctor lands on his stomach.

"Thank you Sokidan," says Yamcha picking up the device. "Sorry about that old man, but you'll thank me later."

From there he sprints back to his friends to check on them. The Ox King is up and moving, albeit with a limp. He and Puar have gotten Bulma's mom and Upa to their own couches to rest.

"Are you guys going to be alright without me?" says Yamcha, poking his head through the door. "I'm going after Bulma."

Puar looks at the Ox King who nods.

"Then I'm coming with you," says the cat.

"Are you sure you're feeling up to it?" says Yamcha.

Puar flies over and latches onto his shoulder.

"You're going to need an extra set of eyes," she says.

Yamcha smiles and takes off again.

…

Korin stares out from the railing atop his tower. Chichi and Yajirobe stand behind him. She grips the Power Pole in both hands while he keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Do the two of you feel that ominous ki?" says Korin.

"Yes, it feels worse than I imagine Piccolo's would be," Chichi says.

"It makes my skin crawl," says Yajirobe. "I'm not sure I like having this ability."

"Can either of you tell me how many there are?" says Korin.

"Three, I think," Chichi says.

"Yeah, what she said," says Yajirobe.

"Good," says Korin. "They are coming straight for us so be on your guard."

"What could they want with us," Yajirobe says. "I don't have anything of value."

"I can't say for sure, but we need to be ready," says Korin.

He watches as the Makyo Star draws near the sun, ready to start eclipsing it.


	26. Battle for the Four Star Dragon Ball

Korin, Chichi, and Yajirobe stand across from the three unwelcome guests who invaded the sacred tower. Nicky, Ginger, and Sansho grin at the trio who grit their teeth at a prospective battle. Nicky holds a glass object with a glowing yellow flame burning in its center.

"Greetings," he says. "We are here on behalf of our master, Garlic, who will soon be the new ruler of this world. We're looking for an orange ball with stars on it. If you could offer such a gift, it would go a long way towards winning his favor. I cannot fully express the benefit of being in your ruler's good graces. Now, would you happen to have anything like the artifact I described lying around?"

"I'm afraid we don't," says Korin. "Sorry we could not be of help. I'm sure you'll find what you are searching for elsewhere."

Chichi wishes she felt as brave and calm as Korin seems to.

"Looks like they're going to be uncooperative," says Ginger.

"Uncooperative is always the most fun," says Sansho.

"Go ahead boys," says Nicky.

"Yes Vizier," they say together.

The bulky Sansho charges towards Yajirobe. The long pinkish sideburns that run passed his chin flow behind him as streamers. The fleet footed Ginger zigs towards Chichi with a rapid succession of tiny steps leaving his legs a blur.

Yajirobe crouches while beginning to draw his blade from its sheath. He zooms in a straight line directly at Sansho. The henchman hesitates for a moment at the unexpected tactic before jumping away from the flashing steel of the samurai.

Sansho turns to face the swordsman who readies his sword once more. He feels a twinge from his right ear. He puts his thumb and index finger on each side of its cartilage frame and runs them upward until they touch. It should come to a point but the tip is missing, replaced with a flat, bleeding edge from a clean cut.

He brings his thumb and finger before his face. He rubs them together until the blood on them dries.

_No sword should be able to cut me, _he thinks._ He's pretty dangerous after all._

"Power Pole extend!" says Chichi.

Her weapon elongates to meet the approaching foe with a sweeping swing. Ginger takes to the air to avoid it. Chichi merely recalls the staff and then thrusts it straight at him. It extends again and pins him to the ceiling before retracting once more.

"Oh my," says Nicky. His wrinkled face crinkles even more as he smiles. "These two are more interesting than I thought."

Ginger's eyebrows press down into the sockets below while a snort escapes his skullish snout. He rushes the woman again. Ready for her weapon's trick, he makes a couple agile dodges. He blocks a strike with his right forearm and slides along the pole's length towards its wielder. He prepares a punch with the other fist.

Chichi hops to her left to get around it. The adversary is ready for her with an already initiated kick to cover her defensive option. She blocks with both arms.

The heavy leg slams into her body propelling her to the railing around the perimeter of the structure. Her back hits hard while her arms stretch out for support. She gets her elbows over the top of the railing and manages to stay on her feet.

Ginger shoots a ki sphere to make up the distance between them. She gets her arms in front of her face and chest just as the attack makes contact. It explodes and splashes across her. The force knocks her through the stone guard behind her and into open air. She falls from sight.

"Oops," says Ginger. "I forgot to ask her if she could fly. Oh well."

"Flying Zephyr!"

He can barely hear the voice because it sounds so far away, but he is sure it belongs to her. He steps to the edge to peek over. The woman zooms passed him riding a golden cloud.

"What the hell is that?" says Ginger, shaking a fist.

He leaves the platform to chase after her.

Sansho adopts a ranged strategy of firing blashish yellow ki bolts. When Yajirobe does not fire any back, he keeps the samurai at bay and running around with suppressive fire.

…

"Alright Puar, we're closing in," says Yamcha.

He sits in the pilot seat of the jet. Puar occupies the one directly behind him.

"I need you to monitor the controls for a moment," he says.

He closes his eyes and feels the vibrations of the cat climbing the back of his seat to look over his shoulder. He breathes in through his nose and exhales through his mouth. He does this slowly several times. His hands then take hold of the wheel.

"What did you do?" says Puar.

"This is going to be a pure stealth mission," he says. "We're going to sneak in, get Bulma and Oolong, and sneak out. I lowered my ki in case our enemies can sense it. Hopefully they'll never know we were here."

_And hopefully we don't run into trouble, _he thinks. _It still takes me too long to draw my ki back out._

A series of disjointed spires rise from the ocean they fly over ahead of them. Each of them has their own gnarled design as if created by separate architects. The only thing they have in common is the base they are built on. Connecting them all is a network of jagged walkways and bridges.

They fly in low along the surface of the water. Yamcha sets the craft down behind a wall at the edge of the compound as out of sight as he can manage. The pair hop out, turn it to a Capsule, and begin scouting for their friends. Yamcha's gi almost blends in with orangish brown bricks the castle is constructed from.

Away in a tower, Bulma watches a mouse slip between the bars of the cell she is locked in. It turns around from beyond her prison to look at her.

"Good job Oolong," she says. "Now find those keys and don't get caught."

The mouse explodes in a cloud of white smoke. A bipedal pig takes its place when the haze disperses.

"Wish me luck," says Oolong.

A visible chill runs across his body before he scurries off on his errand.

Yamcha and Puar sneak with deliberate movements within eyesight of one another. He can feel his bandit instincts returning as he flexes old muscles he has not used in many years.

His eyes scan for guards and lookouts while his body stays low and small. The pair position themselves so they can see where their partner should move next. Through silent gestures to each other, they know where and when it is safe to move next. Together they gain ground covering each other's blindspots while moving in tandem across the backdrop of brick and dust.

They come across a courtyard with a single giant tree in its center. It sits close to the middle of the citadel. Yamcha hears voices coming from a large opening into a huge hall of the castle at the back of the courtyard.

They enter the dark wing. The only light comes from a few beams of sun sinking through windows high overhead. Shades of navy and deep purple obscure the giant space like blankets of mist.

The duo advances towards the sound of the voices. They weave between the giant pillars holding up the ceiling. They find a large throne much too big for its tiny cloaked occupant.

"What could be taking those three so long?" says the dwarf. "We should have wished for the release of my father by now."

To the right of the throne is a chalice shaped table. A purple pillow with six Dragon Balls resting on it attracts Yamcha's eyes.

"Fear not Master Garlic," says a taller humanoid nearby the dwarf. "Your father will be back soon and then our new kingdom will begin."

He flashes a fanged smile before combing a hand through the long white hair climbing up from his scalp. A rattling noise from a cage on the opposite side of the throne from the Dragon Balls draws everyone's attention. In it is a boy with his hands on the bars. The small prison looks like the ribcage of a beast as it curves around him.

"Gohan," Yamcha says, mouthing the name more than speaking it.

A bright flash of golden light brightens the hall from above. An image of a translucent man with antennas solidifies as it descends. Spice hisses and backs away from the heavenly glow. The light fades, and Kami stands before the throne.

"If it isn't the current Guardian of Earth," says Garlic. "I must say I'm surprised you made an appearance. My spy reported the people of this planet don't believe their prayers are being listened to. I was hoping that meant you were too decrepit to do your job anymore."

"Garlic Junior," says Kami. "I should have known you'd never learn. I've traveled the world and seen the torment you've inflicted. How dare you bring your horrible curse to my people again."

"Don't try to blame the current state of the planet on the Makyo Star's influence," says Garlic. "It merely reacts to the inner most desires of those its light falls upon. If people act in ways you don't approve of, that is simply their truest nature. The corruption you witnessed has always been there festering under the surface. This world is destined to tear itself apart. The Mayko Star is just exposing and expediating the process. Now maybe if you ruled with more authority like my father would have, you could actually enforce law over your precious humans."

"You're just as misguided in your views as he was," says Kami. "All living beings will act on their instincts for self preservation if they live in fear and without compassion. The role of Guardian is to develop a sense of safety and to foster love. It's not to rule over them and control their decisions. They are capable of great achievements if allowed to grow and create. Your methods would only strangle this by promoting the very things you criticize them for."

"Master," says Spice, "allow me to give our old friend a proper welcome."

He cracks his knuckles.

"Hello Spice," says Kami. "I see the past few centuries have not been long enough to reflect on your previous failures and the shortcomings of your thinking, either."

"Why you!" says Spice, growling from the back of his throat.

"Spice!" says Garlic. His general halts. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but please hold it back for the moment.

"Now Kami, I believe you were lecturing me on how the Guardianship is not an authoritarian position And yet you allow great atrocities to occur and go unpunished when you could step in yourself and stop them with your own hands. I'd say your passive approach is the real evil."

"It's true. The people of Earth have committed countless horrors to one another," Kami says. "But it is during those times people reflect on what is truly important and right. They work together and fight back such atrocities. They learn and better themselves allowing life to improve. New evils will bloom alongside the changing world but people will continue to adapt and meet these challenges too. And so the natural cycle goes.

"Your father's approach would stop this cycle by enslaving humanity and forcing them into decisions they would not otherwise make. That is why I had to make sure he did not receive the blessing of the previous Guardian to be his successor."

Garlic's eyes redden along the edges of their whites.

"You mean you tricked the last Guardian!" he says. "And stole what was rightfully my father's. Your predecessor spent his entire stewardship trying to cleanse humanity of its deceitful lifestyle. Always lying and cheating one another to preserve their own happiness at the expense of others. He was fed up with it.

"But after arriving on Earth, my father showed him how we Makyans are not dishonest like the miscreants he watched over. We do not hide out intentions, we make them clear. We do not conduct ourselves on a subjective morality, we achieve through any means necessary. And we rule those not strong enough to obtain their desires until they develop the strength they need to overthrow those in power. This is the truth my father enlightened your last Guardian to. Realizing we Makyans were true to our word and could maintain peace over so many people, he believed my father was a worthy successor who could achieve what he failed to. He was about to give the world to him."

Garlic's face contorts to become a hideous scowl before continuing.

"But then you separated your selfish half from your being in a bid to win the Guardian's favor. Sensing your new aspirations to be wholly for the good of Earth's denizens, he spurned my father and gave you the guardianship. He actually believed your kindness to be genuine and that maybe you could make a difference and change the humans' vile ways.

"How foolish of your predecessor to be deceived one last time leaving the world to rot just the same as it always had in your hands. And so my father had no choice but to rise up against you and your humans. We crossed the Dead Zone between your planet and ours. We fought under his command. But we lost. And you, having learned nothing, sealed my father and many of his followers away. I barely escaped with his most dedicated servants."

Garlic closes his eyes as the memories and emotions of the event return to him. He sighs through his nose before looking at Kami once more. The planet's protector leers back at him.

"Arguing with you is obviously of no use," says Kami. "Your father was wrong, and if you pursue his agenda, I will do whatever I must to defend the path I know is right."

"You really are just like your humans," says Garlic, "Here you are claiming to be on the side of righteousness when your actions serve only you while costing everyone else. I've heard the terrible stories of the wars waged by the Demon King born from your own progeny. You became their Guardian then spit in their faces by inflicting upon them the worst scourge in their history. You looked down from on high and did nothing while they suffered for your sin from the fiend you created."

"I did not expect your father to start a war," says Kami. "It would not have been so difficult or taken as long to defeat the Demon King Piccolo if the Makyan forces hadn't weakened our own. But I did not leave the world to go through those tribulations alone. While I may refuse to work miracles directly for people, I keep their hopes alive with small acts that pass for simple good luck. As long as they believe something is possible, humans will persevere and eventually become empowered to handle all of life's difficulties. This is the true purpose of being a Guardian.

"Of course, minor involvement is not always enough. When the Demon King threatened to destroy Earth, I appeared to the bravest human as hermit master. I taught him a sealing technique to defeat the evil. That man was a teacher himself, and his students were inspired by his courage to make better changes in the world. And the students of his students are making a difference to this very day."

"Gah, I'm sick of your blather," Garlic says, spitting. "Once again you blame others for your inadequacies. We won't fail to conquer your world this time. And when we do, all humans shall be equals under our reign."

"I won't allow that," says Kami. "I rarely interfere directly with the affairs of Earth, but I assure you, you have my undivided attention."

Yamcha feels his mentor's ki rise with Garlic responding in the same fashion. A movement catches his eye. Oolong waves a hand to come over to his side of the room. Yamcha signals to Puar and flicks his head towards the pig. The two retreat back into the darkness.

The trio run through a hallway away from the brewing confrontation.

"So you know where Bulma is?" says Yamcha.

"Yep," says Oolong. "I went looking for keys to get her out. Unfortunately they were hanging on that little guy's chair. Luckily I found you instead. You guys have an escape plan, right? I need to get out of here."

"Yeah, things are worse than I thought," says Yamcha. "The power coming from those two was insane, especially the little guy."

"And what about Gohan?" says Puar.

"Hmm, I don't know yet."

He sprints up the stairs of a tower following Oolong while Puar floats after him. They come to a floor and run down a line of cells for prisoners. They find one occupied by a woman.

"Yamcha!" she says, pressing her face against the bars.

"Bulma!" he says, reaching his arms between the poles of iron to hug her.

They give each other a quick kiss.

"Wow Oolong," Bulma says, "You found something way better than a key."

"I know, I know," he says. "Now can we please hurry this up."

"Gladly. Stand back," Yamcha says.

"Wait Yamcha," says Puar. "Won't you blow our cover if you raise your ki?"

"Hmm," he says. "You're right. Maybe if I just release a little at a time, they won't notice my rise in power. Then I only have to let out enough to bend the bars. Plus they're distracted with Kami so that should help cover me."

"Wait, Kami's here?" Bulma says.

"Yeah. Apparently he has some kind of ancient feud with the guys that kidnapped you," says Yamcha. "Now here, let me try."

He grabs two adjacent bars with his hands and begins to pull on them. His arms strain against the resistance as they refuse to bend. The skin of his palms and fingers pinch and chafe. An ache starts to burn in each knuckle and shoot up his arms. The pain quickly intensifies to an inferno as the muscles and tendons stretch to their limits.

When the suffering is almost too much to bear, relief comes to them in a trickle of ki droplets quenching the fire. His hands and arms reinvigorate as their oxygen starved cells receive the much needed boost necessary to push on.

The bars start to pull apart. Bulma watches intently until she thinks there is enough room for her to squeeze through.

"Stop!" she calls out.

She bends at the waist and moves head first into the oblong gap. She has to go through sideways giving a hand to Yamcha for support. With his help, she slithers out of the hole.

An explosion shakes the floor beneath them. They all dance to stay on their feet. When the shaking stops, they give each other nervous glances before moving out.

"So what exactly is going on?" says Bulma running behind Yamcha down a flight of stairs.

"Let's see. Kami's fighting the demons, they have six of the Dragon Balls, and Gohan is in a cage," Yamcha says.

"What? Gohan's here too?" she says.

They exit the stairwell getting them out of the tower. Bulma stops with the others doing the same to look back at her.

"We need to rescue him then. Not to mention try to snag one of those Dragon Balls so they can't make their wish. Otherwise we'll miss our window for bringing Goku back."

"No way, we need to get you out of here first," says Yamcha. "I can backup Kami after you're safe."

"That won't be necessary," says a chilling voice.

They spin around to see Spice walking towards them.

"Master Garlic doesn't want anyone to interfere with his revenge against Kami," he says. "Not even me which left me a little bored. Then I smelled the fear of a scared rat."

Spice shifts a glance to Oolong.

"I thought I'd investigate for a bit of fun. And as luck would have it, I found you all trying to escape."

Yamcha dashes between the enemy and Bulma. He puts his right arm behind him and across the front of her. His left remains up between him and Spice. His teeth clench as he tries to draw out his power.

_I need more time, _he thinks. _This isn't good._

High above the castle, the Makyo Star begins to consume the sun.


	27. Maykans versus Earthlings

Chichi wheezes for air as Ginger continues to zip around her. She holds the Power Pole before her defensively. She wishes she still had the Zephyr to keep up with her enemy. Unfortunately, it had been blown up with a ki attack.

Yajirobe fairs no better having lost his sword. Sansho punches him in the nose. The samurai staggers back, unable to adequately defend himself. Without his sword to focus his ki to, his attacks offer no threat to the foe.

Ginger knees Chichi in the stomach while Sansho shoves Yajirobe with a heavy palm. The two victims spiral helplessly through the air. They careen into each other smacking backs together forming a cross with their two bodies. They drop to the floor entangled together.

_This is not good,_ thinks Korin.

He prepares to get involved by scrunching down in a fighter's stance. Nicky walks up beside him.

"Please don't do anything to spoil the spectacle," says the elder Makyan.

The cold chill of death falls over Korin. He feels it against the warm vitality of his own aura. If he moves, he knows he would be killed instantly.

Korin watches as Ginger and Sansho move in to end the lives of his pupils. They are cut off by two ki bolts that nearly strike them. Everyone looks to the source of the ranged attacks. Two bald men and a third in a cap with a little red pompom on it stare them down from just beyond the railing.

"You're going to pay for what you've done to our friends," says Tien.

"Who the hell are these guys?" says Ginger.

_Whew, just in time,_ thinks Korin. _Thanks Mr. Popo._

Tien zooms straight into Sansho giving him a double palm strike. Ginger gapes at the speed and force of the assault until Chiaotzu is in his face with a couple of kicks he barely dodges.

Nicky flicks his eyes between his two comrades before letting them settle on Krillin. He grins which unerves the shorter man.

"I guess that means you and me get to have some fun," he says.

Krillin shakes his head and readies himself for a fight. Nicky pats Korin on the head before charging straight for battle. The monk folds his pose and retreats away from the tower. He begins focusing ki to his hands while flying backward.

With all three of the enemies finally distracted, Korin runs down stairs to grab a couple Senzu Beans out of the jars on the lower level. He hurries back up to his injured pupils and feeds them both a bean. They thank their master and get back on their feet.

Nicky notices the cat's actions as he chases Krillin around the outside of the circular structure, dodging between ki blasts.

"Hmm," he says before returning his full attention to his target.

Krillin's muscles feel tight. He thinks about every movement of his arms when aiming. They jerk about instead of flowing smoothly. He worries about endless possible things the enemy could do to him and how he will respond. He knows taking initiative could force the enemy into his position of uncertainty but cannot stop himself from being defensive.

Every time he fires a blast, it is reactive to where the opponent is going rather than trying to lead the target where he wants. He misses every attack without any kind of plan like cornering the adversary for a guaranteed hit. Each failed shot erodes his confidence. The thought of all his speed and ranged training being for nothing creeps into his mind furthering his insecurities.

Nicky stops midair as Krillin continues to drift back. A puzzled look comes over his face.

"If you want to run away, I won't pursue you," says Nicky.

Krillin starts at the abrupt statement. There is no implied threat or cunning undertone. He is unsure how to respond but holds his rigid guard.

"You're a funny one aren't you," says Nicky. "I mean no disrespect, but I am quite attuned to fear. You reek of it and yet you stay to fight. Why is that? There is nothing wrong with wanting to live."

"I can't let you hurt my friends," says Krillin.

"Even if that means dying," says Nicky. "If you persist, I will kill you."

The greenish blue face grows serious. An almost otherworldly presence emanates from him. His eyes widen and pierce into Krillin's mind.

The short man gulps. His fighting stance shrinks into an almost fetal position. Then the opponent shoos him away with both hands before flying off to the tower. Krillin watches as he goes doubting if he can follow. He wracks his brain as the adversary leaves to attack his friends, yet he feels too inadequate to give chase.

"I can't beat him," he says. "But I can't let him go after my friends. But I don't want to die."

He closes his eyes and clamps his jaw. His ki erupts in an overflowing white aura. He charges almost not bothering to open his eyes. He aims a fist at the middle of Nicky's shoulder blades.

The Makyan rolls in midair, never letting the punch touch him. As he comes around, he sticks out a leg. The base of his shin crushes Krillin's neck just below the chin. The man goes limp and falls freely in the air.

"I told you to listen to your fear," says Nicky, calling after the body. "You have it for a reason. I could practically hear it asking me to take you out of the fight to stop feeling the anxiety. Looks like your body knew something your brain didn't."

He heads for the tower once again, muttering to himself.

"Honestly, I don't understand why humans think acting against their fear is bravery."

He enters Korin's dwelling through one of the four holes in its base. Several giant clay jars await him. Lifting the lid off of one, he finds an uncountable amount of green colored beans. He picks one up and pops it in his mouth.

As soon as it hits his stomach, he feels instantly full and energized.

"Extraordinary," he says. He stretches and flexes his arms. "I've never felt so good in my entire life. These little things are incredible. And dangerous."

Nicky aims his hand at the pot he sampled a bean from. A pale green sphere with a white center shoots into it. The contents explode everywhere and burn up to ashes. He does the same thing to every jar he sees.

Debris and ceramic pieces fly everywhere. Bedding and belongings get torn up and destroyed in the process too. Something orange catches his eye as it rolls along the ground. The last Dragon Ball!

He snatches it up and walks towards the stairs to the main level where the fighting still takes place.

Back on her feet, Chichi sees Chiaotzu being pushed back by her old foe. She rushes in behind him trying to stay in his blindspot.

The childlike martial artist takes a forearm across the side of the head. He drops to the floor. Ginger leaps into the air stretching one leg high to get his foot above his head. He centers his raised heel over Chiaotzu's head to splatter his brains.

As he is about to let loose the tension restraining the attack, he feels the bump of a knuckle against his lower back. The tap is just above the hip of the leg ready to strike.

There is no pain. It quite honestly feels like no more than someone casually glancing off of him in a crowd. And yet, the spot twitches with a little spasm. He jumps as if shocked with static electricity. His leg drops harmlessly to the ground. The built up momentum carries him forward in a series of hops one would make when favoring a leg with a sprained ankle.

He turns to see who dares interfere. Chichi is already on top of him driving in a fist with the index and middle knuckles extended from the other two. His bum hip forces a sluggish reaction from him. She sticks close with a furious assault he cannot retreat from.

Everywhere she strikes feels like the first hit. No pain, just a numbing shock. She renders his body useless, and he collapses to his knees. His mind urges his muscles to move, but they are unresponsive.

"Ginger!" says Nicky shrieking. "Watch out!"

Ginger turns his head on his neck, the only part of him Chichi has not immobilized. Nicky's face is poking up above the top step of some descending stairs. The elder breaks into a run to get to the next floor, but he is not fast enough.

The samurai Sansho fought earlier holds his reclaimed sword in a meditative pose. His eyes flash open, and the steel of his blade shimmers with energy. He charges with the weapon lagging behind him.

Ginger screeches as Yajirobe swings the katana. He passes by the target with the sword now on the other side of his body. As he lands, Ginger's head erupts from his neck in a fountain of blood. The horrified expression remains on his face while it falls to the ground.

Nicky stares in shock.

"Ginger!" he finally says in a shrill tone.

He stumbles towards his dead comrade. He stops, grits his teeth and then sprints to Sansho. His body lunges into a flying kick which forces Tien to disengage from battle. He places a palm on Sansho's shoulder and tilts his head towards the open expanse of sky.

Nicky tears into the air leaving a sonic boom in his wake. Sansho does the same.

"I don't understand my Vizier," says Sansho. "Why did we retreat? We need to avenge Ginger and get the last Dragon Ball."

Nicky rolls his wrist to reveal the jewel he has already obtained.

"We will avenge Ginger," he says. "Mark my words. We will have our revenge."

Sansho feels his comrade's rage grow with every word.

Krillin wakes up in freefall. Before taking flight, he senses for any evil presences around the top of Korin's tower now high above him. Detecting none, he rights himself and flies up to meet his friends. Luckily, he discerns enough life forces to account for all of them.

_What are they going to think of me?_ he thinks.

On his way up, he runs into Tien coming to check on him. Krillin massages his neck and avoids eye contact while assuring his companion he is okay. They continue to the top and catch the end of a conversation.

"And I don't have any more Senzu Beans for you," says Korin. "I always keep a handful away from my stores, but I need all of them for planting a new batch."

"We understand," says Chiaotzu. "We'll be okay now that we have a better idea of what we're up against … Oh it's Tien and Krillin."

"Good," says Korin. "You boys better head out. I have a feeling Kami is going to need your help. I'm afraid Chichi and Yajirobe won't be able to assist since they have no means of flight."

"I'm sorry I let the Flying Zephyr get destroyed," says Chichi.

"No worries," says Korin. "It will reform naturally on its own in time."

"We should have been here sooner," says Tien. "But none of us sensed them soon enough. It was Mr. Popo who told us to come down here."

"You did everything you could," says Korin. "Now follow after them before they get too far ahead. We can't let them make whatever wish they have in mind."

"Right," says Tien and Chiaotzu together. Krillin barely nods.

The three of them take flight after their new rivals with Krillin at the rear.

…

Garlic raises his robed arms to the side; his palms face the ceiling. Pale yellow orbs of energy grow from nothing in each hand. They reach a size bigger than his own body. He throws one, then the other.

They sail towards Kami who experiences trouble dodging them more for their girth than their speed. He jumps to the side to get around the first one. Landing in a crouch, he springs upward to get over the second.

Garlic now lifts both hands over his head. A third giant sphere materializes beginning as just a dot before inflating. The dwarf scoops his fingers to release the third volley at Kami who now hangs in the air.

It splashes over the old man before exploding. Garlic smirks at his success. The brightness of his attacks fades, but a golden light still radiates forth. Kami is encased in a luminous barrier showing no signs of injury. Garlic frowns at the revelation.

"You're a stubborn old thing," says Garlic. "Although you'd have to be in order to still believe humanity can selflessly take care of their own."

Kami gently floats to the floor.

"You misjudge the people of Earth," says Kami. "How I wish you could see the progress they have made these past three hundred years. I'm ashamed to admit that many times I became disheartened myself. But every time I felt like giving up on them, they have shown me they only needed a little more patience. I even found among them a purehearted boy I seriously considered as my successor.

"It's taken hard work and sacrifice, but I'm incredibly proud of the world they have built. It still needs improvement, but I'm excited to see what they achieve next."

"Bah," says Garlic, spitting at his feet. "Your sentimentality is just extinguishing the desires burning inside them. You'll never see what they are truly capable of by holding them back with frivolous notions of morality.

"My father is going to release them from the chains you bind them with when he takes command. The strongest willed of them will truly be able to achieve their potential. Then you will see they are no different from us Makyans and how we operate."

"Such leadership will only repeat the same conditions you experience now," says Kami. "Can't you see that I'm offering you an alternative to escape from your hellish oppression and fear?"

"You misunderstand Kami. Such a system has made me strong," says Garlic. "My will has been hardened and honed. I know exactly what I want and the sacrifices necessary to achieve it. The fear of losing forces me to focus on what is really important and forgo everything else that doesn't matter. Fighting the oppression strengthened me with every battle.

"Few people ever truly know themselves and what they are capable of. They spend their whole lives with just enough to get by that they never challenge the status quo. They are too afraid of losing what little they have and never risk any of it to gain anything more. But three hundred years without my father and watching my enemies do as they please has stripped away such weakness from my being. I have a single purpose, and I've never been happier."

"You've got it backwards," says Kami. "You think giving up everything and channeling all you have into a single goal will make you happy. But if you fail, you will have nothing and no one to fall back on. The society you live in only takes and does not come to your aid when your efforts alone are not enough.

"The people of Earth are steadily working towards a wholesome community where their needs are met, and they don't worry about not having enough. They can spend their excess on others to help them confidently knowing the same kindness will be returned.

"But your people feel unloved and without purpose. Anyone in that situation will do whatever it takes to survive the current pain filled moment. Not because they don't care about others, but because they can't see anything outside their own torment until they are freed from it. And even then, the lasting emotional trauma will make it difficult to reconnect with others. Can't you see that? Won't you let me help you?"

"Help?" says Garlic. "I would never accept help from the one who stole my father from me. You took him and my future kingdom. Now you will watch as yours is taken from you.

A bluish white outline sharpens Garlic's body. He shoots forth like a missle drilling a headbutt into Kami's abdomen.

…

Spice shoulder slams Yamcha into a wall. The bricks cave in around him leaving an indent as big as his body. Spice steps back letting the warrior drop to his hands and knees.

_It's no good,_ thinks Yamcha. _I can't keep up with this guy with my ki suppressed, and he's not giving me enough time to draw it out._

"Come on Yamcha," says Puar.

Bulma stands nervously beside the floating cat. Oolong is nowhere to be seen.

"Does it upset you? Being so weak," says Spice. "I hope it does because it pisses me off how you humans take your luxurious lives for granted. You can walk freely in the light while my people must scrounge around in the dark to scrape by on a meager existence."

Yamcha groans.

"But you know what infuriates me the most," says Spice. "It's how you humans conceal your real identities from one another. Right now you want to kill me don't you? It would be easier if I were dead wouldn't it? But instead of acting on the impulse, you worry about whether or not murder would make you a monster just because someone put that idea in your head. Then you go around thinking high and mighty of yourself for upholding some supposedly virtuous standard. All the while, you condemn those that don't live up to it. But really, you've just never been forced to make tough choices. You avoid those situations because you're not willing to test who you actually are."

"Hey man," says Yamcha. "I'm sorry your home life isn't perfect. But I know a thing or two about scraping by. And yeah I've lived at the expense of others when I thought it was just me against the world. But I came to find a place where I belonged and people I can depend on. People can change if they are willing and find people who love and support them. The hardest thing for me was admitting I was wrong and asking for help. Attacking innocent people who aren't responsible for your struggles isn't going to solve anything."

"Innocent, huh?" says Spice. "You humans are the reason we Makyans are in this predicament. You were all so attached to the niceties of your comfy lives that you all came together under a false banner of unity with Kami leading the way. You fought tooth and nail against us. Then you locked away our master and left the rest of us to return to the world we tried to escape.

"Now here we are three hundred years later, and nothing has changed. You all act the same. You pretend to care about everyone on the surface. But when your own happiness is in jeopardy, you will tear down anyone in your way to save it. Here let me prove your moral convictions mean nothing in the face of true adversity."

He holds out his left hand so his thumb and fingers make a C shape. Bulma lifts into the air and races towards him. Her throat slides cleanly into the grasp. Gagging noises immediately sputter from her.

"Let her go!" says Yamcha.

"Make me," says Spice. "If this woman is important, do whatever it takes to save her."

Yamcha races furiously towards the taller man. He throws punch after punch, but the Makyan sways between each one. The woman in his grip swings around not weighing him down at all. He fires a dark pink blast to knock Yamcha away.

"You see," Spice says. "You humans can't help yourselves."

Yamcha grimaces on his hands and knees again. Spice sees a flicker of magenta in his eyes.

"I can feel your rage building," says Spice. "I can taste the ill intent. Just let it go. Give in. It'll feel good I promise. There is a wealth of power to be had when you break free of your feeble mental constraints."

Yamcha strikes again. His attacks are faster this time. Spice must throw in a few blocks with his free arm and legs. Yamcha presses harder. Spice watches his mouth change to a sick grin. The aura around the man grows with an animalistic taint.

Spice clasps his empty palm on Yamcha's left fist. He lets Bulma go to catch the aggressor's other forearm in midair.

"Woah there," says Spice. "I didn't expect quite so much pow—"

A hard knee hammers his gut. Dry heaves and grunts escape his mouth as he buckles over. He tries to stand up straight once, but his stomach cramps and tightens pulling him back down.

Yamcha howls as wind swirls around him. Spice staggers back a few steps.

"Ya-Yamcha?" Bulma says. "What's happening to you?"

He flicks his chin to face her. His tongue runs over the top row of his teeth. The canines seem bigger and sharper than before.

"Looks like he's finally succumbed to the Makyo Star's influence," says Spice having finally found his voice.

He manages to stand straight up, but one eye still clenches shut from the pain.

"What do you mean?" says Puar.

"That planet taking over your sky has an orbit which passes between Earth and its sun," says Spice. "But it's more than just a rock. It's our home, and it has a will of its own. The light it reflects mixes with its aura. Lifeforms bathed in its glow become intoxicated with lust for their desires. All inhibitions holding them back are released, and they become their true selves. It's happening all over your planet, and it's finally happened to him."

"But why now?" says Bulma.

"No one is immune, but stronger willed individuals may need more incentive before giving in to their basic urges. Of course when the eclipse completes, no one will be able to resist it."

Yamcha lunges at Spice. The Maykan moves to intercept him but the target vanishes. A blow to the back of his head sends him face planting into the stone. He pushes up to his knees while grabbing the back of his head. He inhales sharply making an almost whistling noise.

"What's going on here?" Spice says with a hiss. "The increase in strength shouldn't be this much!"

He pounds a fist against the floor.

"And his power is still growing. I don't understand."

"You've awakened more than just his evil spirit," says Bulma.

"What do you mean?" says Spice. "Explain yourself!"

"Yamcha's been suppressing his life force this whole time. Now it's all come to the surface. And if your planet really adds more to it, then you're in big trouble."

Spice looks from her back to the predatory man stalking slowly up to him.

Outside, the Makyo Star continues to slither across the sun, blackening a quarter of it.


	28. Mission of the Makyans

Garlic Junior flies down a hallway, his hood and cape flutter behind him. His general, Spice, and vizier, Nicky, run alongside him. Ginger and Sansho sprint after them while three more figures bring up the rear of their group.

"They're gaining on us," says a tall figure from the back.

Bushy red hair bounces on his back over his armor. The horns curving straight up from his temples point towards his comrades ahead of him as he leans into his run.

"I'll slow them down," says the small red skinned Makyan next to him.

He stops and spins around. His conical hat slides on his head from the motion. The thick fur rim all the way around it drops over his eyes before being pushed away. He throws his hands up. Ghostly scarlet threads stream out of the ends of his fingers building a web across the purple stoned hallway.

"Don't stop Salt," yells back another tall figure. He wears a similar hat but with two horns protruding through the folded up rim.

"Don't worry about me Vinegar," says Salt. "This mission has to succeed."

Vinegar grimaces before turning to catch up. He sees his group round a corner and does the same. Two large double doors made of black metal are slowly being pushed shut as he approaches them. They are three times as tall as himself and closing fast. He flips sideways to squeeze between the thin window still open to him.

"I wasn't sure you were going to make it Vinegar," says Sansho.

Vinegar sees him and Spice pushing on one door while Ginger and his horned companion Mustard rest against the other.

"But Salt didn't," says Vinegar.

"He was a brave warrior," says Spice. "He knew what he was signing up for. Now we have to keep going for him."

Two loud bangs shudder the doors. The four press their shoulders against the metal while Vinegar moves to the middle. He places a hand on each door to help hold it.

Garlic Junior and Nicky stand near the far wall. They examine a raised circular plate on the floor. Electricity crackles in glass cylinders up to Garlic's shoulder evenly distributed around the platform.

"It's been a long time since we've seen this device hasn't it Nicky?" says Garlic.

"Yes my Master. Not since this castle belonged to your father," says Nicky.

He riffles through some papers on a desk next to a computer-like screen with a typewriter set before it.

"Perfect! The plans are here. We'll be able to build a teleporter of our own."

"I can't believe it's come to this," says Garlic. "Stealing the blueprints my father commissioned our court magicians to design. Sickening."

"I understand your rage," says Nicky. "But we knew this might happen if your father's plan to take over Earth failed."

"Damn them for overthrowing his reign. This kingdom should be my birthright. And damn you Kami for stopping me from attaining a new one! We won't fail again. When the Makyo Star finally realigns with Earth, we will have our revenge."

"Are you certain you want to go through with this again? I wonder if your father hadn't been afraid to challenge his rivals directly, then we could have beaten them instead of weakening our forces in a battle with Earth."

Nicky watches his Master's eyes narrow and grow red with blood.

"Never speak of my father that way again or I'll rip out your tongue," Garlic says. "This world is dying. We deserve a new kingdom. And it will be mine."

_That sounded nice last time too,_ thinks Nicky.

Instead of voicing this thought, he asks another question.

"Will you be ready to open the rift between our dimension and Earth's?"

"Yes. My father taught me well in the ways of traversing the Dead Zone separating our universes. When the orbits of our planes overlap once again, my army will march through the portal and conquer Earth."

Garlic lets the fantasy play through his mind until another metallic sound rings out.

"Can we use this one now?" he says. "I'd like to begin building our foothold on Earth immediately."

"Hmm," says Nicky examining the paperwork.

A clamorous clang echoes again. They look over their shoulder at their comrades who have been pushed back from the door which slides open just a bit. They regain their balance and rush back against the door to slam it shut.

"Hurry Nicky," says Garlic.

"I can't be certain but there may be enough energy," says Nicky. "We're still a number of years from converging with Earth, and the farther apart we are, the more energy it's going to take to make the jump."

"But there's a chance it will work, correct?" says Garlic.

Nicky hesitates.

"Yes, but if it doesn't—"

"Good. I'll summon Ginger while you set the coordinates. If this attempt does leave him stranded between dimensions, we'll at least have a better idea of how much power we need to send the rest of us over before the invasion."

The dwarf yells his subordinate's name while Nicky punches keys on the typewriter. Garlic pulls out a pear shaped glass object and places it against his temple in front of his pointed ear. A shadowy worm wriggles through the skin into the glass. When it breaks free, a black flame with an electric red outline dances in the center of the container.

All the while, he explains the plan to his minion. Ginger now kneels on the plate with Nicky engrossed in the digital messages on the screen.

"Take this," says Garlic, handing the glass object to Ginger. "Stay in contact once you reach the other side."

He reaches over the threshold without stepping on it. His minion takes hold of it.

"I won't fail you Master," says Ginger. "What is my mission?"

"Your primary mission is to locate and assassinate Kami," Garlic says. "Your secondary objective is simple reconnaissance. Find out all information pertinent to our war efforts."

"Understood," says Ginger. "But why risk the element of surprise if I am unable to kill Kami. Shouldn't we invade with the full force of our army now?"

"Unfortunately I do not have the stamina to open a portal long enough to cross the current distance between our realms," says Garlic. "When they converge a few years from now, we will be much closer allowing me to create a shorter but much wider rift to fit our army. Until then, we will build a teleporter of our own and gather energy to power it. A few of us will join you at that time to finalize our preparations."

The doors finally breach open, nearly ripped off their hinges. Spice, Sansho, Vinegar, and Mustard open fire with ki blasts as they back away from the towering monsters that enter.

They are huge muscular humanoids. Their dark green skin shows no signs of damage from the attacks hitting them. They wear helmets and shoulder pads made of skulls with fanged canines. They wade through the glowing projectiles unfazed.

"How much longer Nicky?" says Garlic.

"Done," says Nicky, striking the last key. "Good luck Ginger."

Blue electricity arcs around the air above the platform. It strikes Ginger several times causing him to scream and writhe. Every time it does, he becomes more and more transparent, until he finally disappears.

"Did he make it?" Garlic says.

"It won't matter unless we get out of here alive first," says Nicky. He points to a large window high above with moonlight streaking through. "Quick Master, we must escape."

"I can't just leave my men to die," says Garlic.

"We knew the risks coming into this mission," says Nicky. "We voluntarily put our lives on the line. So pardon me, sire, but without you there is no hope."

Nicky slings a hand under his leader's armpit and flies for the window.

"Lord Spice," says Vinegar. "You must follow our Master."

He charges in to punch one of the giants.

"You too Sansho," says Mustard. "We'll hold them off while you all escape."

He flies into action too, outreaching a foot.

Spice and Sansho look at each other for a moment. Spice nods his head, and they both leap from the ground to follow Nicky and Garlic. The four escape the building as the tortured cries of their comrades chase after them.

…

Ginger hides in a forest on the outskirts of a city. He looks at the shadowy flame in the glass item his Master gave him. A voice sounds from it with the fire flickering in tune with the words.

"What have you found out Ginger?" says Garlic's voice.

"It seems the people of this planet believe Kami no longer listens to their prayers or wards off misfortune in their lives. They rely only on themselves and rather than superstition."

"I never expected much from that slug anyway," says Garlic. "But have you found his whereabouts?"

"Not yet. Everyone I've spoken with thinks he is a myth," says Ginger. "I've caught word of a huge event known as the World Martial Arts Tournament. I expect lots of people from all over the world to attend. Hopefully I'll find someone who knows something."

"Very well," says Garlic. "If there's nothing else to report, then I shall go."

"Actually, there was one more thing."

"Hmm."

"Rumor has it this world houses seven magical jewels that will grant a wish if gathered. It sounds like a mere fairy tail, but if such a thing really exists…"

"We could wish my father out of his eternal imprisonment," Garlic says. "See if you can verify such a whimsical thing. I'll call again when we have the chance."

"Yes Master, but, uh, how much longer until the orbits of our realms align? I don't mean to be an annoyance, but it doesn't feel right spending so much time not fighting for you and our people."

"I understand your frustration Ginger. However, your mission is integral to our success. I'm afraid I can't give you an exact time yet as time flows differently between our dimensions. But we're roughly half a decade away from initiating our plans. Anything else on your mind."

"No."

"Good. On your way then."

The flame shrinks as the presence fades. Ginger stows the clear container in the red cloak he is wearing. He pulls a hood up over his ears. By lowering his head, his face obscures in the shadows of the cowl.

He enters the nearby city on foot. His mysterious attire draws looks but no further attention. Upon arriving at a stadium with features of a traditional monk temple, he approaches the front gate. He scans all the faces for anyone of interest.

An attendant tries to stop him. He waves a hypnotic hand before the man's eyes. The attendant sees multiple copies of it stagger one after another following the same path as the one before it. Ginger walks past without any interference.

The man jars awake with the feeling of falling as his body leans too far to one side. He gets his feet under himself and cannot help but feel like he is missing a small lapse in time of the last few minutes. He shrugs and continues to collect tickets from spectators.

Ginger waits in the stands still searching each and every member of the crowd for anything suspicious. He hears an impassioned introduction from an announcer wearing sunglasses before two combatants enter the ring. One of them is just a spiky haired man with an excited smile.

But the other. The other one instantly stands out to him. A man with green skin and reddish pink patches on his upper and lower arms.

_Could this be the man Master Garlic described to us, _Ginger thinks. _The very same man who battled Lord Spice, Vizier Nicky, and Garlic's father? How many other creatures have an appearance like that?_

From the word go, Ginger is dazzled by a display of technique and form as well as overwhelming power and ki attacks. He cannot believe the strength, and more impressively, the control of such forces being thrown around. Nothing in the stories of Garlic Senior's battle with Kami could have prepared him for the feats of these two fighters.

And just when he thinks things could not be more incredible, the green man suddenly grows to ten times his own size. How could the spiky haired man possibly win? Yet the determined smile from the now bare-chested martial artist never cringes away.

Things take another bizarre turn when the man with orange pants shoots down the colossus' throat of his own accord. The giant began to hack and cough before finally vomiting the man back up.

The spiky haired fighter now holds a bottle which apparently Garlic's rival must have swallowed at some earlier point. He opens it releasing a phantasmal fog. The smoke forms the shape of a humanoid. Ginger gawks as two green men now stand in the ring.

Though the new one is much older than the first, he can tell they are related based on their similar features. The only other distinguishing visual is their clothes.

Ginger's attention is brought immediately to the kanji on the robes of the most recent arrival. It reads "god." There is no mistaking it now. This is the man who usurped Garlic's father for the role of Guardian of Earth. This is the man who sealed away the ruler of his own people who was supposed to lead them out of tyranny.

Ginger grits his teeth as he waits for events to play out a little further. The battle turns brutal as the combatants beat on each other relentlessly. Blood and injuries take their toll leaving them on death's door by the end. Somehow the man in tattered orange pants outlasts the other leaving him the victor.

When the climactic battle finally ends, Ginger sees Kami leave the main group. He follows silently after him.

"You can come out from hiding," says Kami after walking far enough away from the crowded disaster scene left by the tournament.

"I could sense you from the moment I was freed from my capsule," the Guardian continues.

He turns to face the corner Ginger conceals himself behind. The goblin steps into the open.

"You are one of Garlic's men," says Kami. "I should warn you that if you intend to repeat his mistakes, you will suffer the same fate he and his army did all those years ago."

"Heh, you won't be so lucky this time," says Ginger. "We won't stop until Earth is ours."

"Yes, I suspected your kind would try again," Kami says. "If I'm not mistaken, the anniversary of your invasion is still several years away. I don't know how many of you there are currently, but I will find out soon, make no mistake.

"For now, I suggest you take this precious time to get to know Earth and its people. See if you can share your way of life with ours. I could not reason with your former leader, but I am willing to try again with you. Cohabitation, not conquest, is the greater path to take."

"Not a chance you old fool," says Ginger. "We are strong and Earthlings are weak. The strong rule the weak. That is how it is on our planet. That is why we are under the heels of our masters."

"There are other qualities besides power that can be considered strength. There is value in humility."

"I'm not here to argue philosophy with you. Consider this a warning of your inevitable doom. Enjoy what time you have left."

"Just remember, I'm offering a rare opportunity. I recommend you take advantage of it."

And then Kami disappears in a heavenly glow of golden light.

…

Garlic stands over Kami who lies on the ground, moaning in pain. The gremlin heaves heavily. His hands are raised before him moving up and down with the motions of his torso.

The cape and shirt he once wore are gone revealing a pudgy chest and gut. His pants are stretched and hanging in long, ruffled wrinkles that drape over his shoes.

His eyes flick off away from Kami for a moment and return just as quickly.

"It seems Spice has found an intruder," says Garlic. "One of the humans you are so fond of. Come to rescue the girl no doubt. How noble. You must be proud.

"But it seems he has succumbed to the desires of his heart. Come. Let me show you the true nature of these humans once and for all."

Garlic raises one hand above his head. Kami's body stiffens and levitates into the air. The dwarf leaves the floor himself. He takes a moment to smile into his rival's pained expression. Then he shoots off down the hall with Kami in toe caught in a telekinetic binding.

Garlic hears explosions and fast paced movement as he approaches the fight between Spice and the humans. Upon entering the large corridor his subordinate battles in, he watches while slowly drawing nearer.

A warrior with long black hair in an orange suit knocks Spice around. The Makyan clearly cannot keep up with the human who dances circles around him. Punches and kicks penetrate any attempts at guarding them.

Having seen enough, Garlic fires a blast of energy that catches the unsuspecting enemy in the side. The force knocks him out, but before he can be pushed away by the force, Garlic grabs him out of the air with his psychic hold.

"Yamcha!" Bulma and Puar say together.

"Honestly Spice," says Garlic. "I can't believe you're having such trouble with these vermin."

Spice looks at his Master and tries to straighten his posture to a more refined stature.

"Apologies sire," he says. "I underestimated him."

"No matter. Grab the cat and the girl. We're going to the Great Hall," says Garlic.

He zips away with a struggling Kami and unconscious Yamcha. Spice wraps an arm around Bulma's waist holding her sideways against his hip. Another hand grips Puar by the neck as if she is a stuffed animal. He follows after his Master while Bulma futilely bangs her fists on his thighs.

They carry their victims into a huge enclosed space blanketed by the same black and purple as the throne room. They stand on a balcony circling the oval shaped room. Six mighty pillars in two staggered rows of three hold up a bridge crossing the top of the room high above their terrace. The columns fill the center of the otherwise empty area below. Two more columns, one on each end of the bridge, come straight down through the balcony to the floor below.

Garlic drapes Kami over the railing of the terrace. He then takes a telekinetic hold of Bulma from Spice. He moves her and Yamcha down to the floor they overlook, dropping them several feet above the ground near the center. The only discernible exits are giant doors too heavy for a normal human to push open by oneself.

Yamcha stirs awake from the fall. Bulma rubs her legs which took most of her weight in the crash.

"Now Kami," says Garlic. "Watch as your precious humans reveal their true nature and tear themselves apart."

Yamcha stands up, magenta circles still glowing around his irises. He sets his predatory sights on the terrified woman. Bulma slides herself back with her hands and feet. She manages to flip herself over and stand up. She sprints down the middle of the pillars as Yamcha gives chase. Kami watches in horror at the scene.

The Makyo star creeps along in its consumption of the sun nearly half way across it.


	29. Puar's Tears

Ox King punches another man in the face as he charges through a hallway of people. Upa and Bulma's mom are slung over his hefty shoulders. They bounce about as he wades through the invasion of the Capsule Corp building. The glowing pink of their eyes shine through the gloom.

"Has the city lost its mind?" says Upa.

He slaps at a woman clawing at the Ox King's back unable to do much else but watch.

Realizing he is being overtaken by the horde, Ox King stomps a heavy foot on the ground, then does the same with the other. The support beams under the floor giveaway as they collapse. Ox King lands on his feet one level lower. The mob members get buried in the rubble. He sprints off down the hallway to get some distance before they dig themselves out.

…

Garlic's laughter rings in Kami's ears as he watches a bewitched Yamcha stalk Bulma.

"Just imagine Kami," says Garlic, "this scene playing out all over the world. Pretty soon everyone will fall victim to the influence of the Makyo Star. There must be some interesting history between these two for him to hunt her down like that."

"But don't worry Kami," says Spice. "Things will return to normal once the eclipse has passed. Of course, by then, our people will have arrived and easily be able to take over your weakened planet."

Puar struggles against Spice who holds tight to the back of the cat's neck.

"Oh Yamcha," says Puar. "What's happened to you?"

Bulma shrieks down below. The high pitched noise echoes up to the balcony.

"Yamcha," says Bulma. "You need to fight this."

She weaves in and out of the pillars. The sound of approaching footsteps gets louder, but she refuses to turn around.

"Can you feel that Kami?" Garlic says. "The fear in the girl rising? The survival instincts kicking in? The willingness to do anything to escape this situation? Any connection they have means nothing when it's her life against his.

"Humans like to think they are above their basic urges and selfish needs. But this day will open their eyes to what they are capable of when the circumstances turn dire."

"Please you two," says Kami. "Don't hurt each other."

His voice is barely a whisper. He tries to stand up by pushing off the railing he leans on. He rises in small increments one inch at a time. The strength in his legs withers. He collapses against the stone support kneeling where he started. He sees Yamcha grab one of Bulma's arms.

The warrior spins her around to face him. He grabs her other arm. She winces as the hands tighten above her elbows. The pressure strangles the blood circulation. A sudden start lifts her off her feet as he shoves her.

Hard granite crashes against her back. The stop gives her whiplash, and she smacks her skull on the column. She slides down the structure to a seated position. She watches through blurry vision as the man now possessed by hate instead of love approaches.

"Stop it Yamcha," she says, barely able to form the words. "Don't do this."

Fingernails bite into her shoulders. She yells in terror. Her body raises up. She screams and kicks uncontrollably. Yamcha gives a wicked smile.

"Leave me alone! Don't touch me! You're a monster!"

A purple and black aura projects from her body. Yamcha staggers back a couple steps. Bulma's eyes flash with violet light. The eerie glow encircles her irises.

She lunges forward with speed beyond her normal capacity. A slap from her hand catches Yamcha off guard forcing him back a few more steps. When he turns his head back, pure rage burns in his eyes with a fuchsia flicker.

"You see that Kami," says Garlic, barely holding back his laughter. "You coddle them with your passive ways. But it's amazing what they can do with the right incentives. Fear. Anger. Any kind of stress can push them to go beyond their limits. And it spreads so easily. As soon as one person forces himself upon another, the other is forced to respond. When the stress becomes too much, they finally break through their mental constraints of morality or helplessness and achieve their true selves. And they all help push each other to do it in the panic as it proliferates. It's really quite beautiful."

"No Garlic," says Kami. His body tenses once more to get to his feet. "Your ways will only create everlasting resentment. Instead of growing together, they will only tear each other down. Progress can never be made. That's why your homeworld is the way it is. That's why you wish to take over mine and leave yours behind. Can't you see that?"

Kami gets one foot underneath him but still kneels on the other knee.

"Oh Kami," says Garlic. "The struggle has only strengthened my resolve. I'm stronger from enduring the pressure. That's why I will achieve my dream and you shall fail. For hundreds of years I have fought through adversity while you have lived in unengaging peace. Your mind and body have atrophied while mine have only been sharpened and hardened."

Puar continues to mutter inaudibly while watching Yamcha and Bulma.

"Don't give in Yamcha," says the cat. "You don't have to do this."

Then Puar yells out.

"You're stronger than this Yamcha, I know you are!"

Spice tightens his grip. He cannot be sure, because he looked down at his captive, but he thinks the warrior below hesitated for a moment.

The moment passes and the two resume fighting. Yamcha lands some bruising punches while Bulma cuts up his skin with her nails.

Saline droplets drip from Puar's eyes as the violence unfolds. Memories of all the good times she has shared with Yamcha come to her mind as she tries to comprehend how he devolved into such an emotionless beast.

Kami manages to get his other foot flat on the ground. The full weight of his body bounces on the hinges of his knees.

"It saddens me that your experiences have left you with this mindset," he says staring down at his feet.

His teeth slide across each other catching in their grooves. With one hand on his thigh and the other on the railing, he straightens his arms and legs. Kami rises to his full height and towers over the dwarf. He looks Garlic dead in the eye.

"But your way of thinking is poisonous. I believe in the world I have tried my best to cultivate. And I believe in the strength of heart those two have and the love they share for each other. I know they can overcome your treachery."

Garlic leans back from the words before settling his nerves.

"I'm not sure if I should be inspired by your confidence or pity your senile mind," he says. "Either way, those two are going to kill each other. There's no doubt about that."

"They will prove you wrong," says Kami, turning to watch the two below.

Garlic snarls and does the same.

Puar looks away from the two rivals and gazes upon her best friend once more. Yamcha overpowers Bulma with ease, clearly no longer messing around.

He knocks her to the ground a couple yards away. He begins his final approach raising his hands in a form Puar is all too familiar with. They glisten with sharp ki ready to rip his victim apart.

"No Yamcha," says Puar. "This isn't you."

The cat begins to struggle against the fingers around the back of her neck. Spice tightens his grasp bringing his thumb and index almost together. Puar wriggles her chin under his thumb and bites down hard.

"Argh!" says Spice, giving a shake of his wrist.

Puar breaks out of his loosened clutch. She propels herself to the floor below as fast as she can go. Her body nose dives straight to where Yamcha prepares his lethal attack.

She latches onto his chest. Her four paws hug him as tightly as they can.

"Oh Yamcha," she says. "Please come back to me."

The fur on her back peels away from her skin. Yamcha's fingernails scratch deep into her, scraping open wounds. As she gets pulled from his chest, she pulls up his gi just as her skin is stretched from her back.

Puar squeals in pain as her tiny limbs extend beyond their limit.

"Yamcha, it hurts," says Puar. "Stop, please stop."

Yamcha rips her free of himself and slams her against the stone floor. Her body bounces once, twice, three times as it skips away. He stares at her unmoving form.

"Pu-Pu-Puar," he says.

His face scrunches up as a hand moves to press against his forehead. He shakes his head back and forth. When his eyes open, the fuchsia rings around them shatter like glass. They immediately fixate on his still friend.

"Puar!"

He runs to her, drops to his knees, and slides to a stop at her side. He places a hand on her stomach and slips a palm under her head.

"Why did you do that Puar?" he says. "What were you thinking getting involved in this? Gah! It's not your fault. It's mine. I was weak. I let this happen."

Puar's eyes slit open.

"Yamcha," she says. "Are you okay?"

"That's my line," says Yamcha. Tear drops appear at the corners of his eyes. "You're so brave Puar. Thank you."

"I'm glad you're safe," says Puar.

Her eyes close once more. Before he can do anything to ease her pain, he notices Bulma rise to her feet. She rushes him. The rubber of her shoes squeaks with every step. She pounces at his kneeling frame. Her reaching fingers slicing towards him.

Instead of bracing for the impact, he rolls onto his butt and spreads his arms out wide. Bulma smashes against him ripping into his torso. Her hands claw in a frenzy lacerating cloth and skin. Despite the pain, Yamcha wraps his arms around her. He pulls her close while she continues to slash at him.

"I love you Bulma," he says.

He squeezes her tighter in his embrace. Her arms settle down. They slide around his sides and grasp his shoulder blades. Her enraged cries crack into sobs.

"Oh Yamcha," she says. "I'm so sorry. I never want to hurt you. I love you so much."

Puar turns her head to look upon them and manages a smile.

Garlic's fists slam on the railing just below his chin. Kami smiles through his weary eyes.

"How could someone as weak as her break the influence of the Makyo Star?" says Garlic.

He can barely get the words out coherently in his fury.

"I told you Garlic," Kami says. "All humans have the courage to overcome any obstacle. And that courage is fostered by love and compassion for one another."

"Hmph," says Garlic, blasting hot air out of his nostrils. "A minor exception at best. But you won't have the last laugh."

He stretches out an arm to envelop Kami in another telekinetic hold.

"Can you sense them?" he says. "It seems my subordinates tasked with finding the last Dragon Ball will be arriving soon. And do you know what I'm going to wish for? I will bring my father back from where you sealed him away."

Kami tries to speak, but the mental hold chokes his throat.

"Spice!"

"Yes Master."

"Clean up that mess down there and meet up with us when you're done."

"I'd be happy to," says Spice. "He and I have a score to settle anyway."

"As for you Kami," says Garlic, "let's have a little reunion with my father."

He brings Kami through doors to an external walkway. They head towards the main courtyard with a tree growing from the center.

Kami squints at the sun which has now been half swallowed by the Makyo Star.


	30. Eternal Dragon, Grant Me My Wish

Spice interrupts Yamcha and Bulma's embrace by descending upon them with vengeful intent.

"Bulma, take Puar," Yamcha says. "I'm going to finish things with this guy."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should run," says Bulma.

Yamcha's eyes narrow in a focused fury on the approaching enemy.

"Yeah, I got this. Just make sure you guys stay back, okay?"

Bulma scoops up a barely conscious Puar and hurries away. Yamcha walks to meet the Makyan.

"You're of awfully eager to die," says Spice. "You couldn't beat me before, and now you've lost the increase from the Makyo Star."

"I don't need to rely on a crutch like that," says Yamcha. "But I will thank it for one thing. It brought out all the energy I was holding back much faster than I can on my own."

"You're bluffing," says Spice. "I don't sense any more power from you than before."

"I'll let my fists do the talking," Yamcha says.

He readies his stance.

Spice does the same. He begins to step in place while raising his arms like a boxer. He throws a straight right punch, a hooking left, two alternating straight punches followed by a right hook. Yamcha swiftly stays out of range of each one.

They square off again. Spice stares jadedly into Yamcha's smirking face.

"Alright then," says Yamcha, "try and keep up with this."

A gust of wind ruffles through his clothes starting with his ankles and running up to his shoulders. He hunches back on his left leg allowing the other to slide forward fully extended. His fingers curl above their palms, facing Spice.

Yamcha leaps silently forward. He moves with such grace his feet barely touch the ground. He shifts left and right to keep his prey guessing. He raises his hands. Spice follows the motion with his eyes raising his own to guard.

Yamcha sees the movement and swings a leg from low to high. His foot slides in under his adversary's forearms. The ball of his foot drives into the bottom of the Makyan's ribs. Spice falls back, and Yamcha swarms him with strikes from his hands.

The bite of each one feels like the snapping jaws of a rabid animal. Yamcha ends the barrage by simultaneously slamming his wrists together and shoving his palms against the same place between Spice's chest and stomach where the earlier kick landed. The pointy eared man hurtles backward from the blow.

Spice manages to land on his feet. They slide to a stop, and he grabs at the place that took the blow.

"Where…" he says. He coughs and gasps for air. "Where is your power coming from? I don't sense any selfish desire in your mind."

"You've obviously never fought for anyone besides yourself and your own needs. My courage comes from the heart to protect those I care about," says Yamcha.

In Yamcha's eyes, where the violet intrusion of the Makyo Star used to be, Spice sees the white spark of Yamcha's resolve. He shivers under the intensity of the stare. For a moment he can almost feel this strange power the man speaks of.

"That's nonsense," says Spice

He lets both his palms face each other in front of his abdomen. Purple lightning crackles from each one meeting in the middle.

"People can only succeed by rallying behind the strongest individual who can move them towards their goal."

A crimson sphere forms between his hands as the lightning dances across its surface.

"You take the most rewarding rank under their command and follow them until that position no longer serves your needs. Then you join another side."

He raises his hands above his head. A fiery pink aura erupts around the crimson center. It burns with a ghastly light.

"And stopping to help the weak along the way will only destroy you!"

He throws his hands forward. Yamcha easily hops aside. As he does, he traces the path the attack will take with his eyes and realizes the blast is not meant for him.

It rushes past him. He breaks into a run just behind it. He and the deadly orb race towards Bulma and Puar who are too slow to react. Only keeping pace with the red death ball is not enough. He pulls from deeper within himself to move faster.

His lungs and heart burn with the effort to supply his muscles with enough oxygen. His legs grow in weight as they rise in pain to maintain the output. The ki he knows he needs to defend against the attack drains away as he pumps it into the feat of reaching his loved ones first.

He runs up behind it, runs alongside it. They are neck and neck two yards away from the woman and cat. Unable to visualize the full speed of the incoming objects, Bulma sees a brief scene of Yamcha's face. Sweat mats his hair against his cheeks and throat. His eyes are glued to the corners of their socket as he tries to overtake the ki attack. Then everything is obscured in a bright flash and smothering heat.

…

Garlic stands with his hands outstretched to the sky. Kami floats behind him.

"Did you retrieve the Dragon Ball?" says Garlic.

Nicky and Sansho drop down from above and land on one knee. They bow their heads. Nicky reaches out an arm holding the jewel. Garlic grabs it up with both hands. He holds it aloft and admires it. The ball flashes yellow.

"Excellent work," Garlic says. His fangs are on full display. His breaths come out as suppressed laughter. "It will be a lovely surprise for our people when they arrive to find their former master waiting for them. Remind me to properly congratulate Ginger for discovering such an incredible gift."

Nicky and Sansho twist their heads slightly and stretch their eyes to look at one another.

"Where is he anyway?" says Garlic, still ogling the orb.

"Master," says Nicky. "Ginger has been slain in battle."

Garlic's eyes sink back into their sockets. His breathing returns to normal. He lowers his hands and head. Nicky and Sansho drop theirs lower.

"We lost Ginger?" Garlic says.

He clenches his teeth. His left fang does not close into his mouth. Instead it punctures his bottom lip. Despite the pain and the blood beginning to trickle down, he does not loosen his jaw.

"Then he died for a worthy cause," Garlic says, finally releasing the bite. He licks away the blood. "He will be missed. Come, we have a wish to make."

The gremlin turns silently and walks towards the entrance to the throne room with an unwilling Kami following. Nicky and Sansho rise to go after them. They look at one another one more time. As the group steps up into the entryway, Garlic stops. His minions almost run into him.

"It seems you've been followed by uninvited guests," says their Master.

Nicky sniffs the air and turns around.

"Ah yes, I remember this fear," Nicky says. "It smells like piss."

"But how did they track us?" says Sansho. "We were miles ahead of them."

"It doesn't matter," Nicky says. "We can avenge Ginger sooner than expected."

"Good. I'll leave them to you," says Garlic.

Garlic proceeds into the dark hall while Nicky and Ginger stand guard. They see dots on the horizon moving in fast.

"The short bald one is no threat at all," says Nicky. "I want you to finish him quickly. I'll fight the other two."

"Are you sure my Vizier?" says Sansho.

"Yes. If for some reason I do need help, you'll be done in plenty of time."

They prepare to battle in the dimming light of the eclipse.

Garlic carries the Four Star Dragon Ball with outstretched arms. Its pulsing yellow light increases in frequency as he gets closer to the other six sitting by his throne. He pays no attention to the boy shaking the bars of his tiny cage.

Eager to make his wish, he levitates the six jewels to meet him well before reaching the steps to the throne. They float over to him and touch the ground as he sets down the one in his hand. They all pulsate in unison at his feet.

He holds his hands over them as if they are a campfire. He inhales deeply to command the creature the orbs are said to summon. The muffled cries of Kami murmur behind him. The struggle delights him.

Movement to his right deflates his moment of triumph. His head turns and his pointed ears tilt back like a startled animal. They return to their upright position when he realizes who it is.

"Oh, it's you Spice," says Garlic. "You're just in time. You of all people should be here when I bring my father back."

Spice steps out of the shadows to the dimly lit center next to his master.

"You seem tense," Garlic says. "There's no reason to be afraid of him. You served my father loyally during his campaign of Earth. And releasing him from his multi-century imprisonment will only further his trust in you.

"And me if I'm being honest. I understand your hesitation. I haven't seen him in so many years I'm nervous to meet him after all this time. I even worry he might think me a coward who needs him to finish this job. Like I can't do it on my own."

"Of course you can," says Spice. "You've done splendid in his absence. And your father will be proud of all you've accomplished. He will reward us greatly for this act. Now let's summon this dragon."

"Yes, of course," says Garlic. "What was I so worried about? How foolish of me."

He clears his throat.

"Eternal Dragon, I beseech you. Arise and grant my wish."

The orbs glow one last time but do not fade back to normal. Instead they grow brighter than ever before. The light forces him to look away as a gale of wind blows past him. Spice covers his face with his forearms to shield himself from the sudden gust and blinding illumination.

A golden ray streaks straight up out of the orbs in a jagged lightning bolt. It plows through the ceiling three stories up. The material is instantly disintegrated by the magical energy allowing no debris to fall from the gaping hole.

Black clouds radiate outward from where the lightning touches the sky hundreds of miles above the castle. The atmosphere darkens to nearly the horizon in all directions.

The streak of lightning begins to widen and take a serpentine shape. A black form emerges in the center, growing with the divine electricity. The golden light weaves itself around the entire citadel. Glowing red eyes open and the shadowy figure turns green.

A colossal dragon now warps its long, slender body around the fortress. Its coils make arches of indecipherable pathways in the sky. It squints its deep red eyes through the whole in the ceiling.

Garlic can barely see all of the dragon's head through the destroyed roof. The mythical beast opens its mouth. A thunderous voice shakes Garlic's castle.

"I AM THE ETERNAL DRAGON. STATE YOUR WISH SO THAT I MAY GRANT IT."

Garlic stares up mesmerized. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but it is not his voice he hears.

"I wish for Goku to be brought back to life!"

Garlic whips his head to face Spice who uttered the words in voice not his own. His subordinate is nowhere to be seen. Instead he finds a pig in suspenders among a cloud of smoke with a raised fist. Garlic turns back to the dragon. Its eyes begin to glow with even greater intensity than they already do before returning back to their normal piercing gaze.

"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. DO NOT DISTURB MY SLUMBER AGAIN."

"No dragon, that's not my wish," says Garlic.

He raises an arm as the magical creature begins to fade back into energy.

"Wait dragon."

His voice quivers.

"I wish to bring my father back. I wish my father was here."

The jewels he worked so hard to collect rise off the ground in front of him. He reaches for them, but they give off a heat threatening to peel the skin from his bones.

They shoot through the open expanse in the ceiling. The electricity that used to be the dragon discharges through the sky until it is gone. Upon reaching the apex of their ascent miles above the compound, the Dragon Balls fire off like meteors across the sky in different directions.

Garlic drops to his knees and presses his palms just below his thumbs into his eyes.

Oolong wastes no time moving towards the throne. Hanging from one of the many spikes protruding from it is a rusty ring with keys dangling from it. He yanks it from the chair and moves to the cage Gohan is in. The child watches him fumble with the keys trying to find one that fits the lock. Gohan recalls a name from the stories his father told him.

"Wow Oolong that was amazing," says Gohan.

"Don't thank me yet kid," Oolong says. "We're not out of the woods. I was expecting your dad to appear here and save our bacon, but that didn't work."

He finally unhooks the lock. The pig grabs Gohan by the wrist and drags him out of the cage. Before he can get far, he sees Garlic aiming a ki blast at them.

"I'm going to pull you apart one ligament at a time for what you've done," says Garlic.

His voice is shrill, almost shrieking. His eyes have become bloodshot around the edges.

Before he can fire the blast, Kami steps between him and his target.

"Piccolo?" says Gohan.

"Run along you two," says Kami. "I'll handle Garlic."

"Come on Gohan," says Oolong, scampering off pulling the kid by the arm.

"But what about Piccolo?" says Gohan. "We need to stay and help him."

"That's not Piccolo, and I'm not staying, especially to help a demon. I've done more than my fair share today. I'm get'n outta here," says Oolong.

"No it's Piccolo," says Gohan.

He points enthusiastically. Oolong follows the gesture. Striding toward them from the darkness of the poorly illuminated room is the reincarnation of the Demon King.

"This is worse than my greatest nightmare," Oolong says.

"Move along Gohan," says Piccolo.

His voice is flat. The weighted clothing is still missing, the damage to the rest of his outfit still visible. He continues approaching Garlic with his eyes never deviating even as he passes the boy.

"I have some unfinished business with that little devil."

"Ah Piccolo," says Garlic. "I knew your heart had softened. What makes that little brat so special I wonder."

"I'm not here for the boy. He's a ticking time bomb who doesn't need my help. If anything, I'm saving you from him."

"Oh really. That boy barely had an ounce of selfishness in his heart. So pardon me if I have more than a few doubts."

Piccolo stops next to Kami who gives him a look.

"I never thought I'd be happy to see you," says the Guardian.

"Heh, I wouldn't even be here if you'd been strong enough to do your job right," says Piccolo. "Now stand aside. I'll take care of this."

"Don't be so sure," says Kami. "He may not appear so fearsome now, but there is a terrible power lurking below the surface. And I know you're not showing it, but I can tell you're not in the best health either. You'll need my help."

"Just stay out of my way," says Piccolo. "You've messed things up enough with your approach."

"I didn't expect to get involved directly. I know I'd just be in the way. I was planning on transferring some of my remaining ki to you. I doubt you're even aware we have such an ability given your selfish, loner attitude."

"I can barely stand being next to you. The feeling of your energy mingling with mine would just make me want to puke."

"Hmph. Fine. I wasn't looking forward to the experience either."

"Ah how sweet," says Garlic. "Two soul mates finally reunited. Maybe you can make peace with one another before I kill you both. I've got a lot of anger to vent, and I'm not sure two of you will be enough to fully take it all out on."

A dark aura billows out of Garlic's short body. He crouches and clenches his fists. A low growl gargles in his throat. The air around him intensifies as a blackish green haze. The same color begins to take over his skin starting from his back and spreading to his chest and arms. It crawls over the top and sides of his head. His pudgy arms and torso begin to develop greater and greater muscular features.

Peeking through the hole made by the dragon is the forlorn sun less than a half exposed behind the Makyo Star.

* * *

**Author's Note 05/21/20: **I've been so busy lately between life and trying to keep up with this story that I've forgotten to check in with my readers. So I just wanted to say thank you all for reading. It really does mean a lot to me to know other people are having fun with project alongside me. I hope you're all doing well and staying safe.


	31. Rematch and Revenge

Goku, in a dead sprint after a sweating Bubbles, clamps his hands around the monkey's waist. He hoists the little speedster over his head and begins a celebratory dance. Bubbles gets nauseous from the gyrations. Gagging noises cause Goku to stop and look up. The primate holds a hand over his mouth.

Goku notices the halo above his head is missing. He continues to hold Bubbles aloft while searching for it. Not finding it, he sets the monkey on his left shoulder and approaches his mentor.

"Hey King Kai. What's the deal with my missing halo?" he says. "Did my friends wish me back already? That wasn't supposed to happen yet, right?"

"I suppose there's no hiding it from you any longer," says King Kai. "I'm afraid your friends have been locked in a terrible battle over the Dragon Balls. Fortunately your friend Oolong was able to steal the wish and use it on you like they wanted."

"You mean my friends are in danger? Is the battle still going on?"

"Yes, it is still playing out. There's a lot happening. I'm not entirely sure how everyone is doing."

"It's really that bad? Why didn't Shenron bring me to the site of the wish like everyone else we brought back to life so I could help?"

"I'm afraid the dragon only brings people back to life in their bodies if they still exist. And yours is here. All those other times, you had the victims' bodies nearby when you summoned Shenron."

"How could you keep something like this from me? You need to let me talk to them. I need to know what's going on."

"I was afraid you'd say that. I can't let you speak with anyone. Such a distraction could be costly at a crucial moment. However, I will allow you to see what I see if you place a hand on my shoulder."

Goku puts Bubbles down and reaches out an arm. He closes his eyes. Glimpses of events flash across his mind. They are still frames without backgrounds. Each one is more intense than the last. His eyebrows and cheeks pinch together as the memories stop and the current events start to take place as they are happening.

…

Bulma's lungs burn from the smoke and heat they inhaled. She fights a fit of coughs rejecting the air she desperately needs. Her eyes blink and water trying to clear the ash and brightness.

A body she cannot see collapses against her. Her arms instinctively embrace the person leaning on her as she drops to her knees trying to support the weight. She rests her chin in the crook of their neck and shoulder. The scent is unmistakable. Her eyes finally clear up allowing her to see the extent of the damage done by the enemy.

She looks down Yamcha's back. Most of it is exposed. The gi barely hangs in tatters from his left shoulder. His skin is covered in a massive burn. Blood pours heavily from the right shoulder blade. The red liquid runs down his back and arm in streaks.

"Oh Yamcha," Bulma says.

She sobs and nestles her cheek against his. She feels something move in her lap. Puar grabs the sash around Yamcha's waist with both hands and buries her eyes in it. Muffled sniffles escape from the cat.

"Are you two alright?"

Bulma barely recognizes the raspy voice. She pulls her head back and sees Yamcha has one eye half open.

"You're alive!"

Bulma squeezes him. He lets out a strained breath. She immediately relaxes her grip.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm so sorry," Bulma says. "I'm just so happy you're alive. And I—"

She sees Spice advancing upon them. Yamcha can feel the Makyan's approach. Each step brings the weight of his ki closer.

"Help me up," he says.

"No you can't go," says Puar, digging her claws into his clothes enough to scratch his skin.

Bulma bends her right arm so her palm is facing the ceiling and the elbow is at her hip. Yamcha puts his left hand in hers. Their fingers lock, and he pushes off the support. Bulma places her other hand on his side and gently guides him to his feet.

The warrior brushes Puar off of him with his good arm. The cat falls on Bulma. He sluggishly turns to face the enemy. He feels a bump on his lower back and hears a whisper. He twists his head back, cracks a smile, and then returns it to the front.

He grabs his right arm just above the elbow and below the burns. He makes a strafing leap to his left never exposing his vulnerable back and sides to the foe. Spice smiles as he changes direction to follow the movement.

Yamcha's feet come down and bounce off the floor again to repeat his maneuver to further distance himself from Bulma. He does it once more. This time though, he disappears behind one of the huge pillars.

"Trying to hide isn't going to work," says Spice.

Before he can rush down the injured fighter, Yamcha jumps out from behind the column in a full sprint. He runs horizontally across Spice's vision.

"Too slow!" says the Makyan

He dashes with even greater speed than his target. He covers the distance in the blink of an eye. His arm shoots out like a thrusting spear. His fingers rip through Yamcha's abdomen. He flexes his fingers, now exposed from the man's back.

"Did you really think you could get away?" says Spice.

Yamcha smiles. Spice's eyes narrow at the unexpected response. Then the man explodes in a cloud of white smoke. A cat hovers where his head used to be.

Puar lets loose a flurry of scratches from all four paws aiming at the adversary's eyes. Spice closes them and tries to bat her away blindly. He misses and massages the irritating cuts. They itch more than they hurt, and they anger him even more than that.

He growls and scans for the cat after regaining his sight. He spots it, but before he can act, a bright twinkle catches the corner of his eye. He whips his head over to it. The real Yamcha is standing beside the column he never left the side of. A bluish white light radiates from between his cupped hands at his hip.

"Eat this!" he says, firing the Kamehameha.

"Nooo!" yells Spice.

The blast launches faster and bigger than he can dodge. It runs him over surrounding his entire form in energy. His body helplessly thrashes along the path of the beam. The heat and friction rub away at his skin like sandpaper. The concussive waves pound on his bones and organs.

The ki dissipates and thins. Spice drops to the ground out of the stream of light. His body lies withered and broken. Every nerve reports agony back to his brain.

He sees his opponent come into view standing near his feet.

"How?" says Spice, "how did you pull that off?"

His voice is weak, barely a whisper. A series of wheezes and coughs follow the strained sentence. Yamcha feels the last of his enemy's life force slipping away.

"Puar clung to my back when she was behind me," says Yamcha. "You couldn't have seen her because I made sure to face you the whole time. Then when we got behind the pillar, well, you know the rest."

"I see," Spice says. He inhales deeply and slowly. "Heh."

He manages to raise one corner of his lips.

"I don't know anyone who would risk their life to save mine because they simply cared about my well being."

Spice pauses to catch his breath.

"And there's no one I'd risk my life to protect unless the risk warranted some kind of great reward. Your kind truly baffles me…"

"That sucks man," says Yamcha. "I'm sorry."

But his adversary is already dead. His dim eyes stare unfocused.

Yamcha falls to his knees and topples over. Bulma manages to grab hold of him before his head slams on the ground. He is unconscious but breathing.

She lays him down on his side with his head on her thighs. She brushes his wild hair out of his face. Then she looks around the empty room unsure of what to do next.

…

Krillin, Tien, and Chiaotzu touch down in the main courtyard of the colossal fortress. Nicky and Sansho walk around either side of the giant tree at its center to meet them.

"You three are proving to be quite the nuisance," says Nicky.

"You were lucky last time," says Sansho. "We had a mission to complete. But now, you're all ours."

A breeze ruffles through Nicky's robes and Sansho's tremendously long pink sideburns.

Tien steps forward from the middle of his group to meet their challenge. Krillin gulps, and Chiaotzu braces. Nicky and Sansho give each other a glance followed by a nod.

The bulky Makyan storms forward. His heavy footsteps thunder along the ground. The lengthy locks at the side of his head streak behind him like rosy lightning. His sights are set on Krillin directly in front of him.

The short monk takes to the air immediately. Tien moves to intervene while the enemy is fixated on his teammate only for Nicky to gently drop in front of him from above. Sansho carries his momentum into a short hop. He lands in a squat where Krillin used to be before pushing off to chase his target.

Nicky strikes first. His arm is knocked aside by Tien who immediately counterattacks. The three-eyed man shoves his nonblocking palm forward with his thumb, index, and middle fingers extended.

Nicky jumps back to avoid it. Though the hand misses him, an intense pressure pushes against his chest as the air between them compresses.

_There is no fear in this one at all,_ he thinks. _He stood his ground, and I'm the one retreating. I'll have to change tactics. Especially with his little helper floating around._

Tien hears Chiaotzu's voice in his head.

_I'm going to fire a Dodonpa straight through him from behind you. Be ready to catch him when he moves left or right._

Chiaotzu flies over Tien's head with a yellow spark at the end of his pointing finger. A laser shoots out cutting through the air. Nicky flicks his feet behind him and floats away from the ground parallel to it. With him sitting over the beam, Tien cannot advance without running into it.

Tien sends a telepathic message to his partner and moves in an arc around the attack as it finishes. Chiaotzu moves in an arc the opposite direction. As Nicky's feet land, he finds himself surrounded. He must either expose both his sides to keep the two combatants in his peripherals or face his back to one of them.

He pushes off his toes just as they touch the stone. He dashes at Chiaotzu lifting a knee almost to his own chest.

The psychic takes an uncertain pose from being forced so quickly into a melee confrontation. Fortunately, he sees his friend bounding in right behind the foe. He will only have to defend a couple blows before Tien arrives.

A sharp bulge suddenly pushes out of Nicky's exposed thigh. He grabs hold of the end of it with one hand.

_Hang on Tien,_ Chiaotzu thinks. _Something weird is happening._

The warning reaches Tien just before a sword rips free of the enemy's leg. As it does, Nicky spins around to slice at Tien who is almost on top of him. The Makyan misses by a hair as the martial artist slows and angles upward to make more space between him and the blade.

_What's going on here? _thinks Nicky. _He was already dodging before I actually attacked. He couldn't have known about the weapon unless his friend warned him. But there was no indication of that. At least not one I could see. Hmm._

Above their battle, Sansho chases Krillin through the sky.

_I really hope this guy is as slow as he is big,_ thinks Krillin.

The shorter fighter speeds far ahead of the Makyan's reach. He summons a yellow ki orb between both hands. It spins causing little sparks from its friction with the air. His palms curve behind the sphere until his wrists touch. Sansho notes the impending shot and his target slowing because of it.

The Makyan makes a push to close the distance between them. Seeing this, Krillin lets a breath of time pass. He gently shoves his hands releasing the projectile. It warps into a thinner oblong shape from its rapid acceleration. His accuracy combined with his enemy's reduced reaction time forces a reflexive jerk from Sansho.

He jolts sideways as if suddenly pulled by a string attached to his back. The ki formation clips his shoulder and explodes. The heat sears his face and neck. The impact halts his progress dramatically while Krillin races off.

Sansho shakes his head and resumes his pursuit. The same process repeats two more times. He roars after the third blast hits him and his prey eludes him once again.

_He's too fucking fast! _thinks Sansho. _I can't react to his ranged attacks at all. He's content to just chip away at me and waste all my time. I need to get back to Vizier Nicky as soon as possible._

Krillin prepares another pot shot to whittle down his opponent further. Sansho begins to form a ki ball of his own. Krillin fires his bolt. Sansho's eyes widen, and he throws his own despite not being ready. A black sphere with a dark, putrid yellow aura plunges into the smaller missile. They clash, and Krillin's more pointed shape pops the larger ball in a shower of sparks. Sansho rolls to the left barely avoiding another hit.

_No way! How can he summon so much more energy than me that quickly?_ thinks Sansho.

He clenches his fist holding it out ahead of him. The disgusting amber color envelops his hand. He swoops in and brakes to bait another shot. The tactic works allowing him to avoid a blast. The flame burning around his fingers darkens and grows. He dashes forward while Krillin starts to prepare another projectile.

Sansho keeps moving ahead waiting for the next ranged attack. When it rockets from his foe's hands, he drives his own into it. The black cored blast powers into the brighter sharper force. This time it overpowers the opposing blast which breaks across its surface.

Killin dodges the incoming sphere with plenty of time. He pauses in the air since his opponent has stopped moving as well. The scaly skinned demon laughs triumphantly.

"You may be fast, little man," says Sansho. "But you obviously don't have the endurance to outlast me. So keep running if you want, but when you tire, just know that I'm going to kill you slowly."

Krillin makes a nervous swallow. A bead of sweat traces a cool path down his side from an armpit.

_Maybe this guy's right, _Krillin thinks._ What if I can't get away from him? I'll just be wasting my energy little by little until I'm helpless. I think I need to hit him with my strongest Kamehameha. But if that doesn't work, then I'll be in the same predicament anyway._

Sansho charges at his hesitating adversary.

_I guess it's better than nothing!_

Krillin surprises Sansho by flying straight at him. He leans his left shoulder forward as if to ram through the Makyan. Sansho chuckles at the attempt and raises his own shoulder to meet his opponent's challenge.

They streak at each other. They brace for impact. They collide!

Sansho feels nothing as he pushes through his smaller foe. Obviously there was no contest, but he expected at least a little resistance. He turns to see a fading image of the man's backside with blurry edges. Before it fades away completely, he notices the warrior's hands are cupped at his right hip.

"Unreal!" says Sansho. "He can move faster than I can follow too?"

His head swivels searching for the short fighter.

"Haaa!"

Sansho looks upward at the sudden scream. He sees the orange of his enemy's clothes and a white-hot beam barreling down at him. His face lengthens in shock as he tucks in his legs and arms to cover his vital areas.

The wave explodes on impact, igniting the air around the target. Smoke roils outward in a cloud. Before it can be blown away, Krillin knows he failed. And somehow, his opponent's power has grown even more.

"Hey, that was a nice try little man," says Sansho, moving out of the smoke. "You packed enough fear and desperation into that attack to overpower me pretty quickly. I don't know anyone who can summon so much energy that fast."

The voice is deeper, his body bigger than before. The muscles are more rigidly defined, almost like they have been pumped up with air.

"Unfortunately for you," continues the Makyan, "I can beef myself up. In this state, I'm actually stronger than my commander, Spice. It's been fun, but playtime's over."

Before either combatant can move, lightning bursts from a section of the citadel. It vaporizes the roof as it jaggedly cuts into the sky. With black clouds rolling outward from the epicenter and a dragon forming before him, Sansho gawks at the sight.

Krillin gazes in awe too having only seen Shenron once himself. But that moment was very brief since he was still a bit foggy from being brought back to life. Seeing the entire process in action is an entirely different, horrifying experience.

"Looks like our Master has succeeded," says Sansho. He laughs. "You might as well give up now. As soon as he makes his wish, it's all over for this world."

Krillin rips his eyes off the dragon to his now approaching enemy. Was what the hulking man said true? And how was he supposed to beat him now? Fatigue left him empty while Sansho surged with vigor.

Krillin's hands reflexively fly to the sides of his head. His index and middle fingers point at his temples just above the eyebrows, palms facing the Makyan. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Taiyoken!"

His skin begins to turn red, then pink, and finally white. Pure light shines from every pore of his body before flashing outward. Sansho only looks at it for a second, but the damage to his eyes is already done. An infinite number of photons pierce through his pupils before his eyelids can snap shut. Even with them closed, he only sees white.

The light fades leaving Krillin with his opponent completely open for attack.

_I don't have much strength left, _he thinks. _But I need to hit him with all of it._

_Don't waste it on an attack that won't work._

The voice surprises Krillin. He wonders where it came from. It speaks again from his own mind.

_Use the rest of your ki to run away. That's what you've really been training for right? To flee from fights you can't win._

"No, I—"

_Do the smart thing. Get away while you still can._

A violet light fades in and out around his irises.

Krillin musters up the last of his energy, and he flies towards the closest castle spire. The eerie glow solidifies in his eyes. He searches for a place to hide. He sees an open window and squeezes through it. His remaining ki immediately dampens as he slips along the wall away from the opening.

"Argh!"

Sansho rubs his assaulted eyes. He keeps trying to open them, but even the smallest amount of light aggravates the pain. He worries he will never see again.

Slowly, the whiteness burned into his retinas begins to vanish. The world around him is hazy like looking through a thick steam. He keeps blinking allowing more and more shapes to come into focus.

After a couple more minutes of blinking and watering, his vision nearly returns to normal. The dragon from before is gone, and the sky is back to normal.

"Where is that little bastard?" says Sansho.

He whips his head in every direction before shouting.

"Come out here and fight me!"

With no signs of his provocation working, and little time to waste searching the whole castle, he inhales deeply. As the breath releases, his muscles return to their previous size.

"At least I can power down for now," he says, flying off to meet up with Nicky. "That form is hard to maintain for long."

He looks at the eclipse and smiles. A mere quarter of the sun remains.


	32. Hold Nothing Back

Nicky swoops down upon Tien several times while trying to cleave him apart with the great curved sword. He fires a few finger bolts with his free hand to keep Chiaotzu back.

When he sees an opening in Tien's defenses, he drops in with a crushing chop of the blade. Before it can split open the three-eyed man's head, a second pair of arms springs out of his shoulders. The hands clap together on either side of the slashing weapon, stopping it cold.

Tien rams both of his other palms into the bottom of Nicky's ribcage. The force knocks the breath out of him before sending him reeling head over feet into the air. His body makes a hard stop when Chiaotzu grabs hold of him with his telekinetic powers.

He struggles against the mental restraint. His arms and legs pull taut leaving his vital areas completely exposed. As they start to bend behind his torso, he leans his head forward and tries to do the same with his limbs. They shake with the effort of fighting the resistance but slowly return to a more comfortable position. The four armed warrior jumps to land a finishing blow. Nicky thrashes to rip free of the psychic shackles.

Tien's four hands find their mark. Two palms crush the Makyan's skull between them while two sets of fingers impale his stomach. Chiaotzu lets up while exhaling his held breath. The foe wilts in Tien's arms before falling to the ground. They both start when the body shimmers like a mirage and disappear.

They hear a clapping noise and search for its source. Nicky stands by the tree applauding them.

"Well done," he says. "You beat my illusion. I'm glad I didn't try to take you both on head to head."

"You mean it was all in our minds?" says Tien.

"Yeah, almost like he drew us into an image training session," says Chiaotzu.

"But it seemed so real," says Tien. "I could even feel the cold steel of his sword and my strikes hitting his body. We were moving around and everything."

Nicky leaps from the ground pulling another sword from his leg.

"It's not real Tien," says Chiaotzu. "Focus your shoki to dispel it."

"You're sure?"

"Yes!"

Tien closes his eyes as their adversary swings the blade at his body. After breathing in and out once, he opens them. The fiend is no longer there. He looks down to see Nicky frowning from the spot he never left.

_Damn these guys, _thinks Nicky. _They should be demoralized from the control I have over their senses, not be able to cancel it out. My hypnosis may not be physically demanding, but I can only run each illusion for so long. I thought Sansho would be here before the first one gave out. He better finish up soon._

They all hear the thundercrash of a storm as lightning rises into the sky. A green scaled, sinuous dragon forms in the sky. It speaks two lines before vanishing in the same great display that brought it in.

Nicky rises into the air to level himself with Tien and Chiaotzu while keeping his distance.

"Looks like our Master has succeeded," he says. "There's no hope for your planet now."

He makes extravagant circles with his arms before bringing them in front of his chest. Tien and Chiaotzu watch their motion as his robes glide along after them. The former almost fails to realize the distraction as he senses an approaching ki from behind them.

Tien's eyes shift to locate the threatening presence. They find a black and yellowish orb hurtling at Chiaotzu. He raises all four of his arms while leapfrogging his floating friend.

The sphere makes it to within a yard of Chiaotzu before he can slam his hands upon it. He spikes it with all his might, but it barely changes course. Tien watches helplessly as it continues off center at his comrade.

To his relief, Chiaotzu uses the adjusted accuracy to slip upward barely out of the way. However, Chiaotzu's gaze is not on Tien and the ki blast. All three of his eyes shoot to their corners. Another orb from Nicky looms over him.

Chiaotzu places himself between Tien and the attack.

"Chiaotzu—," says Tien but there is no time to finish the statement.

The turquoise explosion consumes the psychic's body and the shockwave pushes Tien back. He shields his eyes from the heat and light. When he opens them, he sees the singed skin and tattered clothes of Chiaotzu falling to the castle below. A trail of red and black smoke follows his body. He cannot sense his best friend's ki.

Tien moves to catch him but Sansho cuts him off.

"Better forget your friend and worry about yourself," he says.

Tien's eyes narrow. His mouth curves into a frown.

"You monsters are going to pay for what you did to Chiaotzu."

"Oh really? Looks like you're the one who's outnumbered now," says Nicky, moving in behind him.

"You better check your math then because I only count two of you," says Tien.

His second pair of arms retracts into his body while his original ones cross in front of his chest, wrists meeting at his throat. The air around him begins to haze with steam. A ghostly copy of himself slides out of his body in the same pose. It solidifies and the process repeats one more time happening to both Tiens.

Nicky and Sansho watch in stunned amazement at the multiplication.

"And that makes four of me!"

The Tiens zoom off without wasting a moment. Two clones attack each of the Makyans. They push their foes back with an enraged assault. Punches and kicks relentlessly pound their guards from all sides as the Tiens strafe around them in a circle. The defenses are picked apart and the hits start landing.

Bruising blows knock Nicky and Sansho around. But the spike in anger cannot last. As the fatigue sets in from the continuous assault, the attacks slow down and lose power. The enemies begin to recover and block hits to gain advantage before strikes of their own lash out.

The clones fighting Nicky try to land simultaneous punches. Their vision darkens to pitch black. They feel their attacks connect but endure a strike in return. One takes a jab across the face while the other takes a slug to the gut Unbeknownst to them, they actually punched each other as Nicky slid out from between them.

They look around helplessly, their three eyes useless.

"It's another illusion," one of them says.

Before they can try to dispel it, Nicky stabs an elbow into the back of one of their heads and pokes his fingers into the throat of the other. The clones drop to the ground grabbing their respective injuries.

The pair fighting Sansho fair no better. The Makyan grabs the attempted kick of one and punch of the other with his hands. He utters a deep growl like he is about to vomit. His muscles explode with energy expanding beyond their limits.

A shockwave rips out from his body as his ki dramatically increases. The clones would have been blown away if not for being held in place. The concussive blast batters them as it passes over. Sansho then slams his arms together, clapping the two Tiens.

The impact smashes bone into bone as their bodies tangle together. They fall in a knot of limbs to the ground barely recovering before crashing into it. They regroup with the other pair who have finally removed the darkness spell placed upon them.

"Seems him separating into four hasn't multiplied his strength," says Nicky. "He just divided it. He countered my earlier illusion much faster, but now seems to be struggling with it."

"Then let's finish them off," Sansho says.

The Tiens turn their heads up to the menacing duo.

"Looks like we have no other choice," says one of them. "You know what we have to do."

The other three nod.

"But will it work at just a quarter strength?" says another clone.

"I'm not even sure half strength will be enough," says the first. "But that's the best we can do. Two of you will have to keep them busy while the other two ready the attack."

"But we were barely conditioned enough as a whole to handle it. We will surely die trying it like this," says the third.

"Maybe," says the fourth. "But we need to do it for Chiaotzu."

The Makyans rush down from the sky. Two Tiens instinctively fly off to meet them. The remaining two raise their arms slowly in a circle over their head before bringing them down sharply. Their hands clasp in front of his chest with the index fingers extended.

An aura of yellow and a dark gray form around them like thunderclouds. The hands pull apart with electricity arcing between them. They can feel more than just their ki pooling into them. Senses begin to dull. Sounds become fainter, and sight blurs. Even the pain screaming from their nerves quiets down. Headaches set in while intestines seize.

Above, their counterparts are easily dispatched. Sansho overpowers one with brute strength while Nicky's trickery beguiles the other. The Makyans each land coordinated kicks to the abdomens of their opponents. The Tiens rocket towards each other slamming back to back.

As they fall, the other two rise up with electrically charged spirit energy around their hands. The fingers and thumbs form a triangular shape with their tips pressed together. They move into position so the adversaries are in the middle. They look across at one another. They breathe heavily from the strain. With one final deep breath, they begin.

"KI!" shouts the first clone.

"KO!" shouts the second.

"HO!" they shout together.

An eruption of pure power surges out of their bodies. A yellow ki tsunami sweeps through the air and over the Makyans. Nicky's face gapes open from the eyes and mouth as the wave washes across him. He offers no resistance against its might despite his best effort to push back. His body stretches and pulls apart from the force expanding outward. Each piece of him vaporizes to less than dust.

Sansho fairs better. He manages to ride his blast with both palms and a knee pressing against it. He thinks he can outlast it if he can keep ahead of it. He is wrong. The leading edge of the destructive energy behind him meets the other at his waist. His soft body rips in half at the pinch point. The separated torso and legs quickly drain of their remaining life force as the explosions crush them into nothing.

The thunderous crash of the double Kikoho deafens the Tiens while the blinding light stabs through his eyes. The heat wafting over them sears the skin. When the damaging aftereffects finally subside, the two exhausted clones look at one another through the smoky, ash filled air. Their job done, unconsciousness takes hold from the effort sending them to the castle below.

The copies on the ground do their best to move under their plummeting selves. They manage to break their fall a little but lack the strength to catch the full weight. The impacts knock the doubles off balance so they stagger towards one another. The four collapse in a heap and fade together into a single Tien on his stomach.

Partially awake, he drags his head along the ground. He can barely even move his neck muscles. His three eyes find Chiaotzu. His best friend hangs limply over a chunk of stone that broke off during the battle. Tien reaches an arm towards him unable to lift it from the floor. He feels every shard of rock rub against his skin as he does.

"Chiaotzu," he says.

The syllables of the name come out in choked gasps.

"I'm sorry."

His three eyes droop shut. His chest cavity contracts and a puff of dust blows away from his lips. His torso does not expand for another breath.

…

Garlic rears above Kami and Piccolo as his muscles gain mass rapidly. His limbs and torso grow in length and thickness while his neck recedes a little into bulging shoulders. The growl escaping his throat deepens with every passing second until the transformation finally stops.

His dark green skin and black plants make his hulking body hard to define against the poorly lit room. But there is no mistaking the massive ki permeating the surroundings.

His mouth opens and the smiling white teeth appear bright compared to the rest of him. He throws his arms up and charges forward. Kami focuses energy to his eyes and releases yellow lasers that shoot continuous beams into the giant's chest. Garlic lumbers straight into them without slowing down. They sizzle and diffuse across his skin.

"Heh, heh, that tickles Kami," Garlic says, closing in.

He swings his arms down to wrap them around the antennaed man. Piccolo grabs his counterpart by the scruff of his poofy collar and drags him backward into the air. They barely avoid the behemoth's crushing embrace.

Piccolo tosses Kami aside and races back towards the Makyan. Garlic uncurls from his failed grapple. As he straightens, a foot swings up into his chin slamming his head back on his shortened neck. A series of punches then batter his abdomen.

Piccolo grunts with each attack striking as hard and fast as he can. They must be working as Garlic offers no resistance. Piccolo shifts his eyes up for a moment when he hears what he thinks are pained cries.

But Garlic is only chuckling at his futile efforts. Piccolo stops and tries to retreat. A hand slaps down on his bald head. It squeezes hard enough to deform its shape. He starts clawing at the tightening vice grip which lifts him from the ground.

A sickening shift in momentum drags him in an arc over Garlic's head and then sends him crashing down into the stone floor. Green mucus spurts from his mouth on impact. The grip on his head releases only to be replaced with a heel jamming into his gut, grinding deeper and deeper. Purple blood coughs up and runs down the corners of his mouth.

Oolong sprints from the scene. He calls back over his shoulder to Gohan.

"Hurry up kid. I'm not going to save you twice."

Gohan looks at the pig whose eyes flash with a fuchsia glow before his head turns to the front. An agonizing roar from his mentor pulls his attention back to the fight. He sees Garlic's leg press harder into Piccolo's belly. The memory of their last encounter with Garlic and his men blooms in his mind. Along with it comes the fear of being found by them and the shame of not helping from his cowardice.

The pitiful urge to run away reignites. And he could do it too. It would be easy. What would his father do?

"Save yourself Gohan," says the older voice of the man who looks like Piccolo. "Stay out of sight and get back to your mother. Nothing else matters right now."

Gohan squints as a golden aura begins to emanate from the tall man. In an instant, all he can see is a silhouette of the man inside the blinding light. Kami zooms across the floor clearing a trail of dust from it.

Garlic looks up from the victim beneath his foot as the light approaches. Kami rams into the side of his target and throws his arms and legs straight out. The energy around him explodes outward. The force makes Garlic stumble forward a couple steps freeing Piccolo.

Garlic regains his balance as Piccolo struggles to his feet.

"Is that the best you can do Kami?" says Garlic. He turns to face his nemesis. "Bump me a couple steps. You'll have to do better than that."

"Let me try then," says Piccolo.

Garlic flicks his eyes over to the other warrior. Piccolo stands with his elbows tucked in at his sides and fists clenched. Both shoulders inflate unnaturally. The bulges move down his biceps and through his forearms. He shoves his hands forward opening the fingers. Each of them and his palms gain an electric blue outline.

"Bakurikimaha!"

A yellow beam with orange flare fires from both hands. They are so massive they immediately merge together into a single wave of energy. It bursts beyond the width and height of his body. The power floods over Garlic, consuming him in its wake. Kami almost gets eaten by it too for standing in such close proximity to the target.

The attack rips up the tiles of the floor and demolishes the first wall it comes to. It expands into the open air outside the castle leaving the wall to crumble behind it. The structural damage is so great that the roof caves in without a load bearing wall below it. This reverberates back up the ceiling causing a giant fissure to cut deep into it. A haze of dust and disintegrated debris shrouds the room. The murky light of the Makyo Star filters in through the clouds.

"That was a spicy blast Piccolo," says Garlic's voice through the fog.

"It–it's not possible," says Piccolo. "My strongest wave didn't even faze him."

He watches helplessly as Garlic emerges from the vaporous screen.

"Oh don't look so glum," he says. "I had to close my eyes at least. It was pretty bright after all."

"This guy is unreal," says Piccolo. "I can't even scratch him."

"Hey Mister Piccolo."

Gohan's words whisper gently in his ears. He looks from the corner of his eyes to where Gohan stands far away at the edge of the battle. He can see the boy's lips moving.

"I know you can hear me, and I have a plan."


	33. Gohan's Gambit

Krillin remains frozen in his hiding place since running away. He senses the familiar life forces of his friends and foe alike dropping out of existence one by one. Another aura soon arrives on the scene. The unmistakable presence of Piccolo. One he could never forget from having fought him in the last tournament and being killed by his past incarnation's minion.

Then a fearsome ki from the only remaining enemy erupts into an even more terrifying power. He can feel it obscuring Piccolo's which rises a couple times in an attempt to meet the challenge. Now it rose again in what would likely be the last time.

_You're doing the right thing, _the voice in his head assures him.

Its calming demeanor massages away the knots of guilt and shame.

"But those are my friends down there," he says allowed.

_It's okay. You can't do anything to stop these monsters. They chose to fight. You chose to hide. That's why you're safe._

_It looks like the only ones left are distracted with each other. Now would be a good time to flee the castle. No one will even see you._

"Yes, I need to go now."

Krillin rises to his feet and sneaks to the window he came in through originally. He peeks out of the opening looking left and right. Seeing nothing, he lifts from the sill to float slowly from the window. Careful not to use much ki, he slowly glides forth to escape the horrible nightmare.

From his lofty position, he scans the citadel below for any signs of danger. He sees the bodies of Tien and Chiaotzu lying near each other with no signs of movement. He looks away from them.

Then he notices motion coming out of a giant doorway. Bulma struggles to carry Yamcha. His left arm is slung over her shoulders while she leans sideways to bear the weight. His feet drag behind him offering no help. Puar assists as much as she can.

Bulma attempts two more steps but collapses from the effort. Krillin instinctively wavers towards the pair despite being too far away to do anything. He steadies himself as he watches them fall to the ground. Bulma buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders rise and fall rapidly. Yamcha merely lies there.

And finally, Krillin passes by the area where the final battle takes place. He looks through the damaged roof to see Piccolo facing off against the last enemy. Kami watches helplessly. He spots the son of his best friend down there as well. He seems to be moving into position.

…

"I can't believe I need the help of Goku's son," says Piccolo, under his breath. He laughs. "Oh well. Guess I don't have a choice."

He places the pads of his index and middle fingers to his forehead.

"I'd love to keep up this tickle fight with you," says Garlic, "but I have an appointment to keep."

"I promise this one will leave a mark," Piccolo says.

Garlic senses a malevolence sharper than any previous attack. The aura reeks with killing intent as if this technique was made to murder someone. The feeling frightens him despite his overwhelming command of the battle thus far. A surge of adrenaline heightens his awareness of the razor's edge before him.

Orange electrical arcs dance erratically around the tips of Piccolo's fingers channeling between his antennas. They swirl around the epicenter, wriggling back and forth.

The behemoth mass of his enemy lurches forward. The movement is slow at first but gaining momentum with every step. After a few more, Garlic transforms into a wall of muscle about to flatten him across the floor.

Garlic feels the power building in his foe at the same rate as his acceleration. The exponential growth far exceeds his expectations. It will eclipse his own in a matter of seconds. He charges ahead despite the worry of not being quick enough. If he can just reach his opponent before he finishes, victory will finally be his.

The density of Piccolo's killer instinct deepens as he approaches. He wonders if he should have fallen back and attempted to dodge. Finesse never really suited him, and changing tactics now was impossible. He pushes the idea away while pressing on fully committing himself to brute forcing the issue.

He marches on into the face of his adversary. His arms stretch out to his sides. The impressive wingspan should allow him to prevent evasion to either side. And he is moving too fast now for backing up. That just leaves retreat to the air which he is more than ready for.

Piccolo stares down the barreling adversary. Knowing his technique still lacks the necessary caliber, he jumps upwards and backwards for just a little more time. Every second brings him closer to surmounting the giant's incredible stamina. However, since most of his ki is funneling into the attack, he can barely enhance the speed or direction of his maneuver. Garlic's mouth opens in a wide smile at the tactic.

The Makyan prepares to ascend with a little bend of the knees. Piccolo inhales deeply. The veins of his head and charging arm protrude from the skin. They throb with blood and ki. There is nowhere left to run. Either his attack can pierce through the enemy now or not.

"Masenko! Ha!"

Garlic hesitates for a moment as a yellow twinkle appears directly in front of him. He drops his glance from the overhead target to identify its origin. To his surprise, the sparkle moves straight at him.

Behind it is the child he kidnapped from Piccolo who must have positioned himself to the rear of the green fighter. Garlic's hands are too slow to swat the little ki blast away. It hits his head like a water balloon. The energy harmlessly washes over him, but it makes him flinch a bit from the force and brightness.

He shakes his head just twice, once left and once right. When his vision clears, he notices the weight of Piccolo's presence has multiplied drastically in the last three seconds.

"Makankosappo!"

The warrior straightens his arm to align it with Garlic. Before the Makyan can even register the attack's visual tell, a corkscrewing beam bridges the distance between them. It punches his gut and begins drilling into him.

The spiraling ki formation rips flesh and organs asunder. It tears through his abdomen and shoots out of his back. The blast continues into the floor, tunneling without resistance.

When Piccolo finally lets up on the attack, he can see light on the other side of his enemy through a steaming hole larger than the size of his own fist.

Garlic gawks at the green man for a second. Then his teeth grit as he looks down at himself. His eyes widen at a dim ray casting through his body like it would through clouds. Nausea spreads over him from the hideous injury. The pupils of his eyes roll upward allowing the whites to take over. His body follows the motion falling backward. The boom of a tree hitting the forest floor sounds when his body finally smacks the ground.

Piccolo, Kami, and Gohan stare for a second.

"Woohoo," says Gohan, with a hop. "We did it."

Piccolo turns at the waist to look at his pupil who grins with pride.

"Damn it Gohan. How many times do I have to tell you? There is no 'ha' at the end of the Masenko."

Gohan sheepishly stops his celebration. Piccolo turns away cracking a hidden smile.

…

Despite the intense desire to flee, Krillin cannot help but be mesmerized by Piccolo's twisting beam. Its design and flow connects with something inside him he cannot explain. A yearning to express himself on an artistic level through a specialized technique of his own blossoms within him. The feeling is beyond his understanding. He just knows it feels right.

With the enemy lying motionless on the ground, his reason for running disappears. Now he refuses to stay from the guilt of his cowardice. He cannot face them. He cannot experience the full consequences of his actions.

A pulse of ki strikes him. His eyes shoot to Garlic's body. The dark cyan fingers of the monster begin to twitch. They tighten into fists. The arms shuffle to prop up the main body on the elbows. From there, a methodical abdominal crunch gets the Makyan to a sitting position. Krillin recoils in horror as the giant regains his feet. The others stiffen into fighting poses.

_Better start running again,_ says the voice in his head. _He's unstoppable, and your friends don't want to see you anyway._

The fuchsia rings around his irises widen.

"But they need help. They have given everything. Even Gohan is fighting. If I run now, what will happen to them?"

The circles of light dim and shrink.

_You can't save them. You'd just be throwing your own life away. Why bother?_

The fuchsia glow intensifies again.

"But if I always run away, then my life will be worthless. If I never act then I'm not even living. These are the people I care about. They are worth sacrificing for. And I won't run away anymore!"

The rings grow hotter and wider. They nearly overtake the whites of his eyes. They reach their limits and shatter like glass as the evil aura's hold on him breaks. He rushes towards the battle at full speed, confidence beating in his heart.

The Makyo Star strangles the sun above as it reaches for the final eighth of the yellow orb.


	34. Dead Zone

Garlic slowly rises with delicate care of the grievous injury. Phantom responses from the missing muscles tell him they are still there. His huge body clumsily returns to its feet.

His teeth clamp together. Blood stains their white surface. The red liquid mixes with saliva and runs down from the corners of his mouth.

"Unreal," says Piccolo. "This guy must be immortal to survive an attack like that."

His eyes look upon the giant with weary desperation. He breathes heavily trying to summon up a second wind for whatever is to come.

Gohan starts to slowly backpedal as Garlic's fierce gaze falls upon him. The bloodshot eyes are hot coals searing his flesh. Their malice weighs heavily on his ki sensing ability he wishes he did not have right now.

"I underestimated how much of a nuisance you could be," says Garlic. "You die first!"

His words are deliberate and evenly spaced with pain stabbing between each one. He takes a step and stops immediately as sharp knives pierce outward from the hole. He takes another and another despite the wailing wound.

Protesting the pain, his hulking body presses on into a trot. Piccolo moves in front of him. Garlic spins like a football player breaking a tackle. His massive left arm sweeps low knocking the foe's legs out from under him. As Garlic completes the maneuver, his right elbow comes around slamming into Piccolo's face before it can hit the ground. The adversary slides off to the side as Garlic straightens from the spin and continues on towards Gohan.

Piccolo rolls to a stop and flails to his feet. He immediately begins to muster the last of his ki reserves from their dormant state. The process takes longer than he can wait, but he needs all of it now. There will not be another chance.

"Run Gohan!" he says.

His command echoes about, but the boy freezes in place. Distracted by the sight, someone places a hand on his shoulder blade without him noticing their approach. Piccolo snaps his head back to find Kami's face squinted in effort.

"What are you—"

"Not now," says Kami. "We don't have time to argue."

Piccolo feels a swell of power flush into his body from Kami's palm. He hates the feeling of it mingling with his own, but he knows his counterpart is right. This is the only way. He returns his attention to Gohan hoping some of his training kicks in.

The Makyan leaps from the ground raising a fist almost as big as Gohan's whole body. He punches it downward to splatter the child across the floor. An orange blur zips through his vision as his knuckles smash into the stone. No satisfying squish accompanies the impact.

Leaning on his clenched hand for support, Garlic looks in the direction the streak of color moved. A short, bald man wearing an orange gi stands a safe distance away with the child cradled in his arms.

Krillin sets Gohan down.

"Sorry I'm so late," he says. "Go to Kami. He'll keep you safe."

Krillin nods towards the man standing behind Piccolo. Gohan shakily makes his way over to the Guardian. The monk watches him go before turning to the menacing monster. His eyebrows press his eyes down into an aggressive angle.

Garlic looks up at the Makyo Star. It has reached near completion of the eclipse. He is moments away from heralding in his army. If he can hold out a bit longer, the day will be his. But he wonders if he can sustain the effort necessary to open the portal between dimensions in his current condition.

Krillin makes a series of bounds towards the beast he barely comes up to the waist of. Each one moves a little faster and in a different direction.

Garlic tries to follow with his eyes, but the fighter's speed makes it difficult. His failing vision from powering through the devastating affliction further hinders him. The two compound leaving him feeling cross-eyed.

When the martial artist closes the distance enough, Garlic swats his arm in a wide arc hoping to take him out. Krillin agilely backflips over the muscular appendage, landing at the opponent's side. He immediately pushes off headbutting the demon below the ribs.

Garlic grabs where he was struck and waves the other hand as if fending off an annoying insect. Krillin retreats back to safety while Garlic staggers about for balance. Upon getting his footing, he roars and stampedes recklessly.

Krillin throws his hands to his side where ki gathers within their cupped sphere. When Garlic is almost on top of him, he fires the Kamehameha down rather than at the towering behemoth. The propulsion lifts him away from the crushing clutches.

Garlic follows him with his reddened eyes. A suckerpunch smacks the opening in his torso from behind. An aggravated pain far beyond any so far claws and pulls at his body.

He turns to find Piccolo smirking. Before he can respond, Krillin drops in with a double axe handle grip to the top of his skull. His teeth crunch down into his tongue as his shoulders bend with the impact.

Piccolo shoves a palm into his chin forcing his neck to reverse directions for instant whiplash. He and Krillin wind up for another series of blows.

Garlic sticks out his elbows with his fists over his pectorals and twists in place several times. He knocks Krillin away and bounces off like a spinning top. He strikes Piccolo before coming to a stop. Finally with a little breathing room, he prepares to counterattack but twin lasers cut into his chest.

They work their way towards the hole in his abdomen causing more pain the closer they get. He looks at Kami who is providing the cover fire. One of his massive forearms covers the wound, so the lasers move back to the center of his chest. They burn and slice at his skin until they finally relent. Piccolo and Krillin regain their feet during the lapse. They ready themselves for more.

"Way to go guys!" says Goku.

His voice rings in King Kai's ear.

"That attack from Piccolo really turned things around. I've never seen anything like it. That must have been the one he was talking about. Makes me kind of nervous to fight him again."

"Don't get ahead of yourself Goku. I fear this battle isn't over yet."

"Ah come on King Kai. Krillin and Piccolo look awesome out there. Really makes me hate being on the sidelines like this. You can teach me something as cool as Piccolo's new technique can't you?"

"Hmm…"

_They're too strong as a group, _Garlic thinks. _There's only one way I can overpower them all at once. It's too soon, but I have no choice._

Garlic curls his fingers against his palms and twists them to the sky. He raises the fists level with his shoulders. The motion flexes his biceps into bulging spheres.

His feet step apart just beyond the imposing width of his shoulders. He lowers into a squat. A growling exhalation like he is lifting a tremendous weight escapes his throat.

Steam begins to rise from his entire body. It ignites into a yellow flame. The aura flicks off behind him following a building breeze.

Piccolo and Krillin dig in their heels at the growing ki. Their clothes begin to whip harder and harder as they are drawn towards the enemy on an increasing wind. Rubble and stone begin to take flight moving towards Garlic and into the sky beyond him.

The grandiose ceiling above their head starts to pull apart. But rather than fall, it crumbles into smaller pieces and flies skyward. Their destination is a vortex of swirling clouds bathed in the reds and yellows of a setting sun.

The abnormal weather formation grows as more clouds draw to its center. Barely visible behind the bending streams of crimson and amber, a cavernous doorway ravenously swallows everything.

Its upright rectangular shape is lined with stalagmites and stalactites. The maw widens to devor even more clouds and stone debris. After the roof completely deteriorates, the walls follow next. The tallest spire rips free like an arrow heading for a bullseye.

"You fools are finished now," says Garlic.

A fit of laughter follows.

"I've opened a portal between our dimensions to the lifeless void we call the Dead Zone. After all of you have been sucked into its suffocating freeze, I will connect our worlds during the full eclipse and bring my legions through to conquer Earth!"

"Are you mad, Garlic?" says Kami, having to shout over the howling gale. "Your father never dared weaponize the Dead Zone. You'll pull all of us in."

"I can withstand its might unlike you weaklings! What's this? I see our first victims."

His head tilts to cast a gaze on the limp bodies of Tien and Chiaotzu lifting from the ground.

"No!" says Kami.

He wraps an arm around Gohan and takes flight towards the duo. He passes Piccolo and tosses the child to him.

"Take care of the boy. I'm counting on you," the Guardian says.

Piccolo catches Gohan and presses him to his shoulder. He glowers at being put on babysitting duty.

Kami hurries higher into the air to catch up with his two helpless pupils he is not even certain are alive. He reaches out his hand emitting a psychic pulse. The bodies stop moving. The Guardian struggles to land against the air currents while reeling in the pair.

"Hey, that was pretty good Kami," Garlic says. "But what about those three over there."

He nods his head again the opposite way. Bulma and Puar grip tightly to an unconscious Yamcha while also digging their nails into crevices in the floor.

"Hang on you guys," says Krillin.

Though the void drags him off his intended course, he manages to reach his friends. Kneeling between Bulma and Yamcha, he holds them down on their stomachs with a hand on their backs. Puar clings to his chest which faces away from the portal.

"Uh oh, looks like it's just you and me now Piccolo," says Garlic.

The two face off ten yards apart. Piccolo can feel his feet slipping as he slides closer to the giant. He cannot risk an attack for fear of being overtaken by the Dead Zone.

"You seem to be struggling," says Garlic. "I hope you don't mind if I open the portal even more."

His aura grows brighter and wider. The suction pulls even harder at the Dragon Team as they fight the stream.

"What's going on?" asks Bulma, barely audible over the extreme winds.

Her arms cover her head to protect it from chunks of rock.

"I don't know!" says Krillin.

His feet are pulled out from under him. He pushes back against his friends with outstretched arms. He flies in place barely balancing his acceleration against the drag.

"He said he opened up a portal between dimensions to an empty void."

"You mean like to the vacuum of space?" says Bulma.

"I don't know. I guess?" Krillin says through gritted teeth.

"So this is basically just decompression of a spacecraft with a hole in it except on a planetary scale. That's just great!"

A large section of stairs crashes and breaks against Piccolo's back. He bends over from the impact allowing his arms to dangle freely before him. Gohan sails away as his mentor's feet come off the ground.

Piccolo stomps both of them down again and searches for the child. Spotting him, he stretches his right hand out on an ever elongating arm until he catches the boy's ankle. The appendage whips back and forth as the abyss tries to wrest his pupil from him. Piccolo sets his teeth and grabs the shoulder with his other hand. His arm is at its absolute longest length and still being stretched further.

"Heh, neat trick," says Garlic. "I can only open it a little bit farther, I swear."

He crouches lower and shoves his hands forward, fingers spread wide. His sight dims as everything more than a few feet away darkens into a blur.

_I just need to hold it open a little longer. Then I'll redirect it to the Makyo Star for my minions to come through._

Krillin presses even harder into his friends trying to fly against the massive wind tunnel.

"Kril … lin," says Bulma. "Can't … breathe."

Krillin stops pushing and spins in place. He flips Puar onto his back and reaches for Bulma and Yamcha's arms as they rise upward. He gets his feet on the floor but is immediately pulled off of it when he grabs hold of their wrists.

He flies backward almost like a swimmer doing a backstroke. Bulma feels her shoulder socket begin to separate. She may have just traded a difficult time breathing for a dislocated joint.

Kami fairs no better. Tien and Chiaotzu continue to slip further away, weakening the telekinetic hold over them.

Piccolo's arm wrenches at the shoulder. The unnatural length elongates and thins even more. His feet slide along the ground. The heels lift up leaving him barely touching the floor.

"You have to let me talk to them now," says Goku. "They're going to die if you don't."

"No Goku. I … I can't do that," says King Kai. "If these are to be the natural course of actions the universe takes, then we must let them play out."

He cannot face his student as he says these words. The hand on his shoulder grips tightly. Fingernails dig into his skin.

"Please, I'm begging you. At least let me speak to my son."

"Ermmm," says King Kai turning his head further from Goku.

"Mr. Piccolo!"

Gohan screams as he gets pulled farther from the castle and closer to the void. Grains of debris constantly pelt his face. Rock sized pieces batter his body. He screams relentlessly but no one comes to his aid.

"Gohan, it's okay."

His father's voice enters his head.

"I'm here with you now. Try to calm down. You won't be able to control your ki if you don't."

"But daddy, he's too strong."

"Not for you he isn't. You've been training hard. Your mom and I are so proud of you."

"But I'm scared."

"I know you are. But you can do this."

"Okay. I'll try."

Gohan attempts to quiet his mind. He tells himself the pain does not matter and the motion should not make him feel sick.

"I can't do it!" he says.

"Yes you can Gohan. Just try again."

But Goku only hears crying from his son.

Garlic grunts. The veins on his head and chest inflate above his skin. His stomach drops as his feet push through the brick floor he stands on. It crumbles to a sandy dust and blows by him. His toes drag along the disintegrating dirt below until his heels grab hold.

"You pests really know how to linger," he says.

He throws out his right arm. A tiny yellow ki orb forms within his huge fingers. It zooms off followed by several more as he takes potshots at Kami.

One finds its mark in the Guardian's side just below the armpit of his outstretched limb. Kami gasps and exhales a sharp wheeze. Piccolo hacks up blood which runs over his bottom lip. His heart turns cold as their linked life force shares the assault on their vitality.

The bodies of Tien and Chiaotzu lurch towards the all consuming rift. They bend harshly at the waist. Kami tucks in his arm to his injured side and reaches out the other to ensnare his pupils once again with his telekinesis. Blood soaks his white robes. The stain slowly spreads eating up all the fabric before it.

The tissue fibers of Piccolo's arm start to snap one after another. Painful pulses jolt him each time. A series of derogatory phrases escape his mouth and get lost in the hurricane gale.

Piccolo rolls his shoulder in every direction but nothing retracts the overextended arm. It whips erratically back and forth ripping the muscles even further. He feels a cool liquid run down it from the middle of his forearm. Then a rending agony splits the appendage apart as it finally relents under the stress.

The boy along with his hand and elastic wrist slingshot into the sky. The arm slithers back spewing mucus haphazardly in every direction. The child flips end over end towards an impending doom.

"Gohan!"

Goku screams his son's name on the telepathic frequency. A terrified rage spills up his arm to his heart and pumps adrenaline through his body. He tries to call out again, but the raw emotion grips his throat.

"That's one down," says Garlic.

He watches Piccolo nurse the shortened arm, the stub still bleeding profusely. A meteoric aura crashes down between them. The ground craters with chunks of stone rising up in deformed spires around its center. A bright light and shockwave overflows from the indent and slaps across the Makyan. He raises his hands to guard his face from the blinding display. He peeks between his fingers as an unexplainable anxiety settles deep in his stomach.

Gohan stands before him, his entire body seething a wrath Garlic never experienced from even his fiercest enemy. A reddish gold aura surrounds the child while the now featureless white eyes glare upon him.

"What, what are you?" says Garlic. "How could a kid have such animosity? No, not a kid. He's a monster!"

"Gohan!"

Piccolo yells from behind. The boy's ki lashes against his green skin with burning waves. He tries to pull back from it, but the dimensional gate drags him closer to the heat. All he can do is watch as his student raises his hands above his head.

"MASENKO!"

Gohan thrusts his palms and a beam of energy as wide as he is tall explodes forth. The Makyan shoves his own palms forward to catch it.

The yellow plasma slams against the joints of his wrists and rams him backward. His elbows bend and his knees buckle. He manages to slow himself down but cannot stop entirely.

Garlic leans into the ki blast. Vibrations from the concussive waves pounding his hands shake his maimed abdomen. Each tremble drums up an agony worse than the last. The crescendoing suffering forces his arms to sag and his legs to bow. The howling portal tugs at his body.

The beam presses harder and heavier as his muscles tire. Fatigue blazes beneath his skin. He drops to one knee, then the other. His arms falter, and the ki charges into him.

Garlic bounces off the wave, smacks once on what used to be his castle, and gets sucked up along with the rest of its remains. A cycle of endless nauseating flips sets in. Glimpses of the roaring gullet fly by one after another, each one bigger than the last.

He imagines his people waiting for him in their assigned location. Any moment, the portal should open to their new home. The eager expressions on their faces slowly fade to confusion and then despair as the appointed time passes.

_What will they think of me? Will they think I abandoned them to take this world for myself? Will they think I used them and left them to die? What will become of them without my leadership and protection? I've truly lost my kingdom now._

He closes his eyes, and the Dead Zone swallows him.


	35. Picking Up the Pieces

The red and yellow clouds continue to circle the gaping scar in reality. Piccolo staggers towards Gohan, never letting his feet leave the ground. The hot air pocket created by the child's rage fueled aura peels back layers of his skin. Little boils form like water simmering. They grow in size and merge into a bigger bubble before ripping away as white flakes.

The anger dies out leaving Gohan to faint from the exertion. Piccolo manages to grab the collar of the boy's shirt as his pupil flies off for a second time.

Kami sweats and bleeds while maintaining his hold over Tien and Chiaotzu. Krillin burns through the last of his ki hanging onto his friends.

Unseen amongst the debris filled sky and unheard by the deafening portal's last breath, Oolong falls upward. He screams for help. He waves his arms for attention. None of his friends below notice the distress calls as they struggle to avoid his fate. He disappears behind the pitch black veil between worlds.

The clouds ever so slowly reduce their rapid circulation with the suction lightening as the rift shrinks. The heaviest chunks of the castle begin to fall as gravity regains its sway. Smaller and smaller pieces do the same until the Dragon Team finally gets their turn.

They collapse to the ground from fatigue and cover their heads for protection from hailing stones. When the last sounds of crashing rock stop, Krillin looks around from where he lies.

The immense devastation leaves nothing standing. The bases of every wall and tower are all that remain. The foundation, now stripped clean of its top layers, is just a scab on the ocean with scaly edges peeled back towards its center.

Krillin lets his head drop, too tired to hold it up. As soon as his forehead comes to a rest, the floor begins to shake.

A fissure tears through a peninsula of the foundation jutting out across the ocean. The whole thing falls into the sea sending a minor tsunami rushing outwards. The fissure does not stop there. It spiderwebs toward Krillin and his group.

"Uh oh!" he says. "I think the rest of this place is sinking fast."

He turns to Bulma who reaches around in her pocket. She pulls out her Capsule pouch and picks one out. With a quick toss followed by the usual bang and hissing of release, a cargo plane spawns before them.

"Help me load Yamcha in the back," she says.

Krillin nods and gets to his feet. Bulma grabs the unconscious man's legs while he slings his friend's good arm over his shoulder. Puar nestles onto Yamcha's chest. Krillin supports the lower back with a forearm. He and Bulma get Yamcha off the ground and carry him into the back hatch.

They lay him down on the hard metal just before a tremor throws them all against a wall. Krillin catches himself with a quick hand, but Bulma scuffs her knee in a fall. She clambers back up and heads for the cockpit.

"Go get the others ready while I start the engine," she says."

Krillin barely realizes she is talking to him before following the command. He tries to run along the shaking ground but staggers about like someone learning to ice skate for the first time. Taking flight instead, he hovers just above the surface.

Piccolo sits not far ahead. His legs are crossed with Gohan napping atop them. He steadies himself with his remaining hand on the ground as it continues to buckles and pull apart. He sees Krillin approaching with a vehicle lifting off behind him.

"Help me up!" Piccolo says.

He sticks out his injured limb missing from mid forearm down. Krillin flinches from the barked order and dripping wound. The monk sheepishly slides the arm over the back off his neck as if putting on a heavy coat.

Piccolo tosses Gohan onto his other shoulder and presses him there with a hand on the boy's back. Krillin pushes up from a squat and gets Piccolo to his feet.

Bulma merely slows down as she reaches them without stopping. They trot after the still open hatch until Piccolo can step inside. Much to Bulma's dismay, he walks straight toward her seat before collapsing with his back against it.

She shivers and tightens her grip focusing on their next comrades. Krillin keeps pace with the plane as she maneuvers the craft next to Kami without striking him. The Guardian holds Chiaotzu against his hip while leaning the other arm on the plane for support. He shuffles along never letting his arm leave the metal until he is inside and seated. Krillin grabs Tien by the armpits and drags him into the vehicle.

Bulma increases the speed and height to get away from the sinking structure. She opens the driver side window and sticks her head out. She screams into the echoes of the crumbling stone and slapping water.

"Oolong! Where are you, you stupid pig!"

Krillin calls out from the yet to be closed hatch, one fist in a death grip on a handlebar. They keep yelling as Bulma starts to circle the rapidly receding island. They shout louder the smaller the landscape gets. Each cry of Oolong's name rips at their vocal cords. They can feel them inflaming from the overuse.

The last of the castle is engulfed by the ocean leaving nothing on the lapping waves. They continue to shout and circle above the water. They search horizon to horizon scanning for anything that breaks up the monotonous blue. Not a single sign of the fortress having ever been there remains, nor one of their friend.

All the while, the Makyo Star's waning eclipse stains the sky red.

After an hour of exhaustive searching and depleting hope, they increase altitude and close the hatch. With his forehead and hand pressed on a window, Krillin continues to stare back as they leave the sight behind.

"Bulma…"

The name squeaks out of the Guardian. His labored breathing wheezes in a high pitched tone. He tries to speak again, but a fit of coughs interrupts him. He covers his mouth with a hand and then wipes away fluids on his blood soaked robes when he is done.

"Bulma, please take us to my palace."

"Are you kidding me!" she says.

Her knuckles are white on the wheel. She leans up against it without her back touching the seat.

"We need to get all of you to the best hospital we can find."

"No Bulma. We can get Senzu Beans from Korin, and Mr. Popo can provide better healing than any of your doctors."

"I don't really care what you think or if you hold this against my immortal soul," says Bulma, "but I'm taking you to a medically certified institute of science. I'm tired of your mystic mumbo jumbo. We're in the same shitty situation as with Goku. You say you're doing what's right for us, that you have a plan, yet you keep letting everyone fight your battles."

Krillin finally drops his eyes from the window to the floor and faces Kami.

"Korin's supply of Senzu beans has been destroyed," he says. "I think we should do what Bulma says."

"The Senzu Beans are … are gone?" says Kami.

"I'm afraid so," says Krillin.

"I don't need help from any of you."

The three of them look at Piccolo. The swollen bruises on his face do nothing to make him more sympathetic. They just make him appear angrier.

"Drop me and the kid off when we get to dry land and we'll be fine."

"You didn't complain about us helping you out when that castle sank into the ocean," says Bulma.

Piccolo snaps his head around. Krillin steps away from the confrontation. Disbelief breaks over his face.

"What did you s—"

"And who says we're letting you take Gohan again!"

Krillin drops his jaw. Now may not be the time for fighting, but watching her challenge a god and demon gives him the inspiration he needs to face the aftermath of their ordeal.

"Bulma," says Kami. "I understand you may not have much faith in me, but the world is in chaos. No hospital is capable of looking after Yamcha and the others better than Mr. Popo can. Please. I beg you. Take us to my temple."

Silence settles around the drone of the engine. After a full minute, they feel the shift in momentum as Bulma redirects the plane. No one speaks until the top of Korin's Tower comes into view.

Piccolo suddenly screams as a new hand shoots out of the seeping stub. Krillin's head nearly hits the roof, and Bulma swerves the aircraft. Gohan finally stirs awake at the commotion.

"Krillin, do you still feel up to flying?" says Kami.

"Yeah, but why?" he says.

He does not take his eyes off Piccolo who rubs the new wrist with his other hand.

"I want you to take Gohan to see his mother at Korin's residence while the rest of us go to mine."

"Sure, no problem."

Piccolo stabs his eyes at his other half.

"Hey! That's my student," he says. "He doesn't have time for a reunion."

"I made a promise to Chichi, and I intend to keep it," says Kami. "What the three of you decide from there is up to you."

"I thought we needed to recover at your special temple."

"My pupils and I do, but you were never invited. You're not worthy of setting foot on such sacred grounds."

Piccolo springs to a kneeling position dumping Gohan on the floor.

"WHAT! How dare you. I defeat your enemy and save your precious planet, and you treat me like I'm a monster. Like you have no responsibility for me. Well fuck you old man!"

Piccolo starts sucking air.

"You were only there for yourself and no one else," says Kami.

Piccolo glares.

"Uh, Mr. Piccolo?" says Gohan.

Piccolo twists at the waist and throws out his arms.

"What!"

Gohan winces back and lowers his head.

"I, uh, I just wanted to see my mommy," he says. "If that's okay?"

Piccolo fumes a few more heavy breaths before releasing a big sigh. He sits back down with a forearm resting on his knee.

"Fine, but I'm going to work you twice as hard for every moment you spend not training."

Gohan raises his eyes and smiles. Piccolo looks away at the back of the plane.

As they approach Korin's place, Krillin readies himself for his delivery. Piccolo stands up and picks Gohan up by the scruff of his neck. He walks without a word to the hatch door as the others stare in silence. With a press of a button, a gale of decompression gives them all flashbacks to the Dead Zone portal. Piccolo hops out and Krillin quickly closes the door. He looks back at Kami and Bulma who both give him emotionless glances.

Korin, Chichi, and Yajirobe wait at the railing as the aircraft draws near. They slide back when Piccolo exits the vehicle and descends towards them. Chichi experiences a second fright when she sees her son in his grip. She steps forward, body tense and ready for a fight.

Piccolo throws the boy at her. Her mind hesitates at the unexpected action, but her arms do not. They fly out from her sides catching her son and pulling him close. Her cheek wrestles relentlessly against the side of his head.

They all jump back again when Piccolo lands in front of them.

"What could you possibly want?" says Chichi.

Piccolo does not look at her. Instead, he concentrates on his feet as the rest of him wavers in place before collapsing to the floor. The world goes black as far away voices follow him into unconsciousness.

"Mr. Piccolo. Are you okay."

"Stay away from him Gohan. He's a demon."

"He's a good guy. I promise, he trains me just like dad does. We need to get him water and …"

Everything goes silent.

Bulma opens the back hatch of the plane to find Mr. Popo waiting on the other side. He holds four balls of fabric against his chest with his left arm. He grabs each of them one at a time and drops them at his feet. After bouncing once, they unfold into rugs and hover above the tile.

Without a word, he hops into the cargo area and gently picks up Kami who passed out before they arrived. The palace caretaker lays the Guardian down on one of the flying carpets. Bulma and Krillin grab Yamcha and do the same. They next grab Tien as Mr. Popo scoops up Chiaotzu's tiny body.

With all four of the patients on the magical rugs, the groundskeeper walks towards the palace. The fabric gurneys follow him. For the first time since coming to Kami's temple, they enter the building itself.

The walls are white and plain. Simple moldings furnish the walls across the base, middle and top. After descending some stairs, they pass several bland rooms until they finally stop at one of them. The rugs move to rest on four of six marble slabs. Mr. Popo opens a closet and begins setting equipment and medicinal herbs on the counter next to it.

He instructs Krillin and Bulma of which herbs to put in their oval granite mortars as he does the same to his. Each of them then grabs a stone wheel with a shaft through it and begins rolling it up and down the mortar. Puar distributes more ingredients to the group as Mr. Popo calls for them. They grind away until each of them has a different shade of green paste.

Mr. Popo provides them with bandage cloth to apply their ointments to and explains which of the three are good for which types of injuries. One is for burns, the other bleeding. The third is to treat infection which he personally made the most of.

He then moves to dress the puncture wound in Kami's side. Bulma does the same for Yamcha starting with the massive burn on his back. Krillin looks at Tien and Chiaotzu unsure of who to treat first. He picks the smaller man as he appears to be hurt the worst.

When the injuries have been tended, Mr. Popo retrieves another set of herbs from the closet. He also brings out some liquids and bowl shaped mortars with pestles. As they mix and mash up the ingredients, he says they are making stamina tonics for invigorating life forces.

"I've made a special one for Tien," he says. "His condition is much trickier than the others. I'm not sure he'll be able to make a full recovery."

He says no more and gives the potion to Krillin. All three of them return to their charges and lift their head to pour the drinks down their throats. Bulma and Puar wait by Yamcha's side while Mr. Popo does not leave Kami's.

Krillin looks at Tien and Chiaotzu one last time before leaving the palace entirely. The night sky still bleeds from the infected sore of the Makyo Star. Its hideous aura churns along the circumstance of its grotesque face.

The battle and his failures replay in his mind. The memory stops when it gets to Piccolo's insane new attack. The motion and shape of it come to a sharp focus as everything around it fades to the background.

He conjures up a yellow ki ball bigger than his fist. The hum of its frequency fills his ears. He applies a rotation to it so the orb spins like Bulma told him. The hum turns into a whistle as it whirls.

He places his other hand over top of the sphere without touching it. His palms push together compressing the ki formation. It continues to spin while taking on an oblong shape.

He presses harder and consciously rotates it faster, as fast as he possibly can. The oblong begins to flatten like a baker working dough. The thinner it gets, the more prominent an edge starts to develop around the perimeter.

Krillin applies even more pressure, but the ki does not bend any further. No matter how much strength he exerts, the formation will not give. His arms start to hurt, and his frustration builds with the mounting pain.

He removes his top hand and yanks back the one holding the flattened sphere. With a grunting heave, he chucks the failed object into the night sky. It breaks apart into small shards as its own spinning momentum tears it apart.

"What was that?"

Krillin starts at Bulma's question. He turns to see her.

"Oh, I don't know," he says. "Just some stupid training to pass the time I guess. Why are you out here?"

"Mr. Popo said I should get some fresh air since there's nothing more we can do tonight. So I'm just waiting in limbo."

They stare at one another with defeat in their eyes as the Makyo Star continues along its cosmic voyage.

Beneath the blacked out sun, Master Roshi struggles to retain a cross-legged sitting position. His fingers fumble with a string of prayer beads. He slides his hand down to clasp the next wooden marble and rolls it back and forth between his thumb and index finger.

He exhales and begins to recite the same mantra for the sixty-fourth time. As the Makyo Star extinguishes more and more of the sun, the words become harder and harder to recall. There is a bead of sweat on his forehead for each of the one hundred eight beads on his mala. They run down his face one at a time during each recitation. The droplets catch in his beard, funnel down to its tip, and finally drop into his lap.

"Well done so far Roshi. You're halfway there," says a man sitting before him.

Roshi ignores the man with gray hair in a style he patterned his wig after for the persona of Jackie Chun. He stares intently at the space between them. The man holds a magazine open to him by both corners and rests it against his crossed shins.

"But are you ready for the centerfold," says the man.

Roshi nods his head.

The man unfolds the extended picture to reveal a completely nude woman spread across four pages. Blood geysers from Roshi's nostrils, and his eyes glare with a fuchsia light.

"Hubba, hubba, hubba," he says instead of chanting his mantra.

A crystal ball smacks down on top of his head. A lumps swells up lifting the sphere and his sister who sits on it by an inch.

"I didn't bring you back from beyond the grave for perverted antics," says Baba.

"How dare you question the integrity of my lessons," says the man. "This training may appear to be vulgar self-indulgence, but I assure you on my honor as a martial artist that it's—"

The crystal balls drops on his head too.

"Save it," says Baba. "And quit messing around."

The man clears his throat.

"Perhaps, I was trying to enjoy life's simple pleasures a little too much during my short time back on Earth," he says. "But I know Roshi's temptations well, and this exercise was designed to test his fortitude against the enchantment of that cursed star.

"I must say, I'm disappointed. Your mental prowess has regressed considerably since it made its last appearance."

"Yes," says Baba. "That thing has been interfering with my fortunetelling for quite some time now. I can't believe it's been three hundred years since that great war. I wonder if I will live to see another?"

"Not at the rate we're going," says the elder man, "Roshi! It's time to take your training to the next level. It's shameful you fell to this same corruption a second time."

Roshi straightens to his feet, magenta burning in his eyes.

"I'll show you how strong I've become!"

He throws off his jacket to reveal bone thin arms and visible ribs beneath the skin. His body strains and growls while his frail frame rapidly grows muscle mass. His limbs and torso expand to three times their size.

The man hops back ready for battle as the enormous ki blows over him. Roshi charges him full tilt. The elder lowers his stance slightly. Then he is gone.

Roshi senses nothing as his opponent dashes past him. He manages to follow the movement, but fails to react to the super human speed which should not be possible without using ki.

A strike to his exposed side drops him to one knee. Again he senses no ki which does not make sense. How can the hit completely immobilize his ki infused body without using the mystic energy itself?

He struggles to turn around on all fours. Instead of pursuing the fight further, he prostrates himself.

"Apologies Master Mutaito," says Roshi. "I have been foolish."

He speaks to the ground without lifting his head.

"Hmph, perhaps," says Mutaito. "You've certainly increased your power since I last trained you. You're much stronger than me in fact."

Roshi does not move from his humbled state.

"Thank you Master, but you defeated me easily," he says.

"That is because I have perfected my ki control. You could not detect my life force at all could you?"

"No. Did you truly raise it and lower in a single instant?"

"I did, leaving no time for sensing it all. And I can do it moment to moment so no one ever does."

"Can you teach me this skill?"

"You're going to have to learn it if you want to keep up with your pupils. Like me, you're probably as strong as you're going to get and yet your students have far surpassed you in strength. But they lack experience and control. You can wield these weapons in ways they could never dream of. I—"

A stuttering gasp from Baba grabs their attention. She shuffles away from her crystal ball tripping over her black robes and falling down. She lands on her palms and keeps pushing backward with them.

"What's the matter sis?" says Roshi.

She slowly, jerkily, twists her face to him. Her wide eyes make contact with his.

"It's … it's … it's the Saiyans," she says. "I finally got a reading of their arrival. They're monsters. Even the weakest among them is more powerful than anything this planet has ever seen."

Roshi and Mutaito share a concerned glance beneath the receding Makyo Star.

* * *

**Author's Note 06/29/20:** And that's the Garlic Jr/Dead Zone arc. I hope you enjoyed my take on it. I'm afraid I have announce another break in chapter releases as I prepare the next arc. I must admit I don't have as many chapters drafted as I would like, so I'm not sure when I'll return. I'm hoping no later than August, especially since that's when I first published this story one year ago :) Anyway, you all take care of yourselves and, I can't say this enough, thank you all for the support and encouragement.


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